The Way Back To You
by Doodlelolly0910
Summary: Killian & Emma were childhood sweethearts but fell apart after he received orders for a military tour in Afghanistan. Injury caused him to leave the service & seven years later, Emma returned back to their hometown as a result of a tragedy. Will they be able to fall back in love with each other or has too much damage been done? Rated M for marijuana use, language, and eventual smut
1. Prologue

The first time he saw Emma Swan, they were at a wedding. Her brother's wedding, as a matter of fact. She was dressed in a peach colored bridesmaid dress, a soft, white smile dimpling her cheeks. Her oversized glasses framing her bright green eyes and her golden hair gathered half up and tumbling over her shoulders in shimmering curls made her easily the most beautiful girl 16-year-old Killian Jones had ever seen. And to think, he was upset his brother Liam was dragging him to this thing that very morning. He loved his brother, idolized him. But he was always trying to put him into his lifestyle, reform him into something he wasn't. Straight laced and rule bound were not in Killian's teenage purview.

She looked over at him and caught him staring, furrowing her brow. He threw her a wink and a cocky smile. He grew even giddier when she flushed scarlet and darted her gaze away. American girls were so easy to rattle, he had found, and he hadn't even laid on the charm with his heavy British accent yet. He found himself walking over to her and tapping on her shoulder. She spun around and looked him up and down, mouth drawing into a thin line.

"Couldn't help but notice you staring, love." He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. She mirrored the action with her own brow and scoffed.

"I think it was you that was staring, pal. And I'm not your 'love'." She replied steadily. She was feisty. Killian never was one to know when to quit, though.

"Fair enough." He laughed. "I've just moved here from England. Just wanted to say 'hello' since we're the only ones our age here."

"Well you've said it. Now, goodbye." She snorted and stomped away. Killian grinned. He had his mind absolutely set on this girl, in spite of the fact she didn't want to give him the time of day.

He didn't approach her again, but he did watch her for the rest of the evening, and occasionally saw her staring back at him as well. He made sure to smile at her every time he caught her eye.

The first time he opened up to her, they were at a funeral. Her mother's funeral, a short month later. She stood stone faced and pale at the gravesite as her brother David's arm was wrapped around her shoulders, his other hand gripping his wife's fiercely. It was raining, but under the black umbrellas David's face was wet with precipitation of a different kind. Killian's eyes didn't waver from Emma, though. She seemed like she was in shock, staring blankly at the coffin, and he remembered feeling the same way at his own parents' funeral when he was just 12 years old.

"And now, Ruth's beloved children would like to say a few words." The reverend stepped aside from the podium as David kissed Mary Margaret on the cheek and tugged Emma out of her stupor long enough to trudge beside him to the area in front of their friends and family.

"My mother was a remarkable woman." David spoke softly, voice hoarse with tears. "She worked hard for everything her whole life, but still found the time to believe in happily ever after and wanted to make the world a better place. She loved being a mom. She loved it so much, she became a foster mom, and eventually adopted my amazing little sister, Emma. She always said that once Emma joined our family, she was complete." David smiled at Emma and choked down another sob.

Emma's face blanched even further. Killian hadn't thought it possible being as pale as she already had been. She started shaking her head and thick round tears began to leak from her eyes. Without a word, she burst from her brother's grip and took off running at full speed across the graveyard.

"Emma!" David called to her as she ran away, but she didn't even pause to look back. Without thinking, Killian grabbed Liam's arm before he started after her.

"I'll go." He said without meeting his brother's eyes and darted towards the direction she ran. He found her under the concrete overhang of a mausoleum, sitting against a thick stone pillar, shoulders heaving with sobs, soaked to the bone. He didn't say anything, but sat beside her and her head popped up.

"What the hell do you want?" She hissed, face furious and red with emotion. Killian shrugged.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay." He said nonchalantly. Emma stared daggers at him.

"I'm fine. Go away." She growled.

"Yes, clearly fine, love." He chuckled and reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling free a joint. Emma's eyes widened and she wiped her face with her fingertips beneath her glasses and down her cheeks, her breathing beginning to even out. "Good, it survived the downpour." Killian turned the handrolled marijuana cigarette in his fingers before popping it in his mouth, pulling a lighter from his jacket and sparking it. Emma continued to stare at him, eyes almost popping from her skull as he took a long drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke after holding his breath for a moment, letting his head fall back to the stone behind them. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and cocked an eyebrow up, extending the joint to her.

"Are you insane?! My brother is in the army! He could come find us any minute!" She pushed his arm away and he shrugged again, taking another drag.

"My brother is in the British Royal Navy, love. They know I came after you. My brother will give me the time needed to bring you back." She looked from the joint in his fingers to his face and back again. He read her judgement quietly. "It's just a little weed. I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

"Why did they send you?" Emma asked softly.

"I volunteered. I know what it's like to lose your parents. I thought you could use a kindred spirit." He took another draw and brought his hand down to rest on his knee, joint still clasped between his fingers. Emma didn't reply, but her trembling fingers did reach out and take the joint from Killian's hand. He looked back at her, half surprised, half amused. She gave him a little half smile and took a small puff. She tried to inhale it and ended up in a coughing fit, her face turning bright red. Killian laughed and patted her on the back, taking the weed from her fingers with his other hand.

"How can you like that?" She gasped between slowly subsiding coughs.

"It's an acquired taste." He smirked at her. "We should probably get back to the service." He added gently, extinguishing the joint against the concrete and standing. He took a small can of body spray from his pocket and sprayed it all over himself, running his hands through his messy black hair to incorporate the musky scent. He offered Emma his hand and she took it, standing as well. She dug in her small purse and pulled out a bottle of perfume, imitating his previous actions.

"I'm Emma, by the way. Emma Swan. I know our brothers are friends from when he was stationed in England a couple years ago." She put her hand out again.

"Killian Jones." He took her hand and shook it. "Listen, if you want to talk, or just not talk, or cry, or scream, or whatever, you can call me, okay?" Emma nodded and pulled out a pen from her purse. She grabbed his hand again and wrote her phone number on his palm.

They walked back to the service side by side, not saying a word.

The first time he kissed her, they were at the movies. He hadn't paid attention to anything that had happened on screen since Emma pulled his arm around her shoulders and snuggled into him. She was stunning in her red leather jacket, and it was the first time he had ever seen her without her glasses. He just swallowed stiffly and flattened his other palm on his pants, trying to wipe away the sweat from it. He pretended to watch the screen but the little voice inside his head was screaming at him.

 _'THERE'S A HOT GIRL IN YOUR ARMS, MATE! DO SOMETHING!'_

He let out a sigh that was shaky even to his ears. Emma blinked up at him and he looked slightly downward at her face, desperately trying to keep his cool.

"You can kiss me if you want to, Killian." She whispered and he thought his heart was going to hammer through his ribcage. He looked further down at her, eyes wide with shock before he found his words.

"I want to." He whispered back and pressed his lips softly against hers. He held her there, just for a moment, before pulling back. Her long eyelashes fluttered open and her electric green eyes connected with his burning blue. They stared at each other, faces only illuminated by the flickering light from the screen.

"We should do that more often." She grinned and snuggled back into his side. Killian felt ten feet tall as his grip tightened around her shoulders.

The first time he told her he loved her, they were in his bedroom. They were laying on the floor, feet facing away from one another, heads next to each other. Killian absent mindedly plucked along to the music that played on the stereo on the guitar perched across his naked torso.

Emma sat up on her elbow and leaned over him, plucking the joint from his lips and taking a drag. He grinned and lifted his chin up to nuzzle his newly grown scruff over her bare breasts. She absent mindedly swatted him away as she released a cloud of smoke.

"But it's my birthday, Swan." He whined at her and she chuckled.

"That it is, Jones. And I've given you that particular present. Twice." She cocked an eyebrow and took another drag.

"Aye, but it's one I wouldn't mind unwrapping again, and again, and again..." He said, sitting up and pressing kisses to her neck and collarbone. She giggled and halfheartedly pushed him away, putting the joint in the ashtray beside her.

"I guess I should get my jollies in now before you leave next month." She sighed despondently. He stilled his attentions and pressed his forehead to the crook of her shoulder.

"I don't want to leave." He said quietly.

"I don't want you to leave." She replied and pulled away to look at his face. "I'm going to miss your stupid blue eyes and ridiculous innuendos." He waggled his eyebrows and she slapped his chest with a smirk. He fell back to the floor, dramatically clutching his chest.

"You've wounded me, Swan." He pouted. "I'll need you to kiss it better. Or I may perish." He slipped into an easy smile and she rolled her eyes, dipping to kiss the smattering of hair where she had hit him. She shuffled to the side of him and laid her cheek on his chest. He blew out a breath and threaded his fingers through her blonde curls.

"I'm not going to leave." He said decidedly and her head popped up. His eyes met hers and she searched his face, confused.

"But you have to. Liam is being stationed back in London." She said, sitting up fully. He sat up as well.

"I'm eighteen, Emma. I can apply for a green card and join the military. I can make a life for us." He placed his hand on her face. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened.

"You can't give up your family for me. Your brother-"

"Will be fine. You are my family, too, Emma Swan. I'm home when I'm with you. I love you." He said softly, nudging her nose with his.

Silence. His heart pounded in his chest.

"You do?" She whispered, eyes brimming with tears and becoming even greener. He nodded.

"You don't have to say anything, Emma. I just had to tell you." He said. She visibly relaxed.

"I know. But...I do...too." She said hesitantly. He grinned so hard he felt like his face might split in half, but he didn't care if it did. She hadn't actually said the words, but the sentiment was there. He captured her lips with his, locking this memory away in the brightest corner of his heart.

The first time she said she loved him, they were at her brother's house. His breath felt heavy inside the cardboard box he sat in as he listened to the commotion just beyond the cardboard barrier.

"Happy birthday, dear Emma! Happy birthday to you!" A chorus of voices cried out.

"And many moooooore!" David's overdramatic warbling gained laughter all around.

"Make a wish!" Mary Margaret encouraged. "As if we don't know what you'll wish for." More chuckling and Killian had to stifle his own.

"Oh, please. That wish doesn't come true for another week." Emma said and he heard her breath as she blew out the candles on her cake. He became antsy at her words as everyone cheered.

"Presents!" Emma cried out and his heart started beating faster.

"Don't you want cake first?" David asked and Killian suppressed a snort, knowing he was trying to delay the surprise and make him suffer a little longer.

"Nope. I want presents. And I want that big one first." His breath stilled as footsteps came closer.

"Geez you're getting bossy in your old age." David grumbled and the wrapping paper began to tear away from the box he sat in. The top popped open and he stood up, dressed in full navy fatigues, registering her flabbergasted expression.

"Happy birthday, Swan." He said, grinning. She let out an unearthly scream that made his ears ring and he blinked a couple times as she threw her arms around his neck kissing his face everywhere her lips could touch.

"Easy, love, easy." He chuckled and gripped her waist.

"What, how are you here?!" She asked between kisses.

"Basic ended a week earlier than expected and I thought I'd surprise-" His words were cut off by her lips crushing against his. He grunted in surprise.

"I don't care." She murmured against his lips. "I missed you. I missed you so much. I love you." She said between kisses and they both froze as the words came tumbling from her lips. Their eyes locked and she looked so in love, but also terrified she had actually said the words out loud.

"I love you, too." He replied and crushed her back to him before she had a chance to overthink. A buzz arose through Emma's guests, oohs and awws resounding and they broke apart laughing.

"You guys are stupid cute, but can we get some cake now?!" Her best friend Ruby called and Emma shot her a mock glare. Killian climbed out of the box and they made their way back to the party hand in hand.

The first (and last) time they really fought, they were in his kitchen. She slammed the letter in her hand down on the counter and her green eyes flared with despair.

"You can't. You just got back." She said steadily, but panic was etched into her every feature.

"That's the thing about the military, love. They don't really give you a choice." He said quietly, lips quirking into a quick smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Afghanistan, Killian?!" She shouted. "What if you get killed?!"

"Emma, I know it's not ideal. I'm sorry." He moved to take her into his arms.

"I can't lose you, Killian." Her voice wavered slightly with unshed tears. "You can't go." He sighed heavily.

"I can't say no, Emma." He said, burying his face in her hair. She pushed him away firmly. Killian looked down at her, startled.

"And what am I supposed to do? Sit here and pine for my man while he's away at war? Worry out of my mind every day if you're ever going to come back home?" She shouted again, tears now flowing freely down her face, eyebrows creased in anger and fear.

"Emma, what the hell? No! I mean, I..." He tapered off, unsure of what to say at her outburst.

"That's not me, Killian. I...I can't wait for you." She said, voice hitching with a sob.

"Emma!" He felt like she slapped him. "You don't mean that. You had to have known this was a possibility when I joined!" She shook her head.

"I cannot lose anybody else. If you died, I would not recover. I...have to forget you." She sobbed. Killian's eyes sparked with anger and pain.

"No. I don't accept this. You can't forget what we have, Swan." He clenched his fists at his side, fighting the urge to haul her to him and kiss the sense back into her.

"I have to try." She kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, Killian. Be safe." He seized her wrist.

"Emma, please." His breath caught in his throat as a tear slipped down his cheek. She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her teary eyes and left, closing the door behind her for the last time.

He stood in the kitchen, hearing his heart beat in his ears so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. He screamed, a roaring sound rumbling from his chest. In a blind pain, he kicked the kitchen chair away from the table and it exploded into splinters against the wall. Letting out another wordless shout, he flipped the table altogether. He began to pummel the wall until his bleeding fist burst through the wallpaper and the drywall before collapsing in a sobbing heap on the floor.

He saw the hurt and panic in her eyes and it broke his heart more than anything other than her actually walking out the door. He should have seen it coming. Running is what she did best.

 _"Get down, GET DOWN!" Gunfire and smoke peppered the air. Killian ran from his position to another vantage point behind a crumbling wal_ _l_.

 _He took a deep breath and peeked from behind the wall, aiming his rifle and gunning down an attacker running straight for them. He felt like he was going to be sick. He stuffed his emotions down and moved forward to rejoin his commanding officer and another member of his unit._

 _"Jones! We need to get the hell out of here!" The lieutenant commander shouted. "We're gonna flank left and-"_

 _"GRENADE!" The shout came out of nowhere and Killian saw an egg shaped device roll into view. He acted before he could think, shoving his commander away from the fire as the other petty officer dove for cover. He turned and started to jump away himself. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion._

 _A flash of light. He couldn't hear anything. His vision blurred. Someone was bending over him, lips moving, but no sounds entered his brain._

 _As the darkness closed in, a blonde haired, green eyed vision floated in front of him._

 _'You were right, Emma. I hope you forgot about me.' He thought before everything faded to black._


	2. Chapter 1

"Oh my GOD! Killian!" Ruby came skidding around the corner so fast he thought her heels were going to catch fire. She plastered herself to the bar counter, trying to catch her breath. Killian stopped wiping down the sink he stood in front of and threw his bar rag over his shoulder, crossing his arms with an amused eyebrow shooting up. "Killian. You're never gonna believe who I just ran into." She gulped down air and her smile was a mile wide. The vivid red streaks in her chestnut hair were bright under the lights of the bar and she quickly brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"Judging by the way the smoke was pouring off your heels, love, I'd wager it was one of those New Direction blokes." He smirked and Ruby gave him a mocking laugh before bursting back into a wolfish grin.

"It's _One_ Direction, Jones. Get with the times. And no. It's even better." She was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Well this I have to hear." Killian leaned over the bar onto his elbows. The open collar of his blue plaid shirt exposed the dog tags he wore swaying away from the patch of chest hair where they had just lay.

"Okay, so I was in Granny's picking up dinner- oh, shit, I forgot the food, I'll have to go back for it!- anyways I was in there and who should walk through the door like a blast from the past but Emma freaking Swan! She moved back and she's living with her brother and Mary Margaret!" Ruby jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Killian felt the bottom fall out of his stomach and his heart began to race, his mouth feeling like he had just stuffed it full of cotton balls. The room swayed briefly and he wondered for a moment if he was going to pass out. He barely heard Ruby's voice as she rambled on about how good she looked, and she wondered why she left New York, and too many things for Killian to process.

"Hey, Killian, you don't look so good. Are you okay?" Ruby put a hand on his shoulder and Killian shook his head roughly to shake off the feeling but it wouldn't dissipate.

"I'm fine, love. Gotta get ready to open. Excuse me." Killian headed to the back and through the kitchen. His head was spinning. It had been seven years since he saw Emma. Six and a half years since that day in Afghanistan when he almost lost his life and left hand. The scars running up and down his left arm, the twinge he felt in the metal pins in his wrist upon every coming storm, the horrifying scenes that plagued his every night when he closed his eyes, all reminders of losing Emma. That was the biggest blow of all.

He let out a shuddering sigh and looked up towards the back office, the vision inside seen clearly through the open blinds covering the window looking out into the kitchen. The boss was on her phone, pale blue eyes glittering as she relayed instructions to the person she was talking to, mahogany ringlets pouring over her shoulder, bouncing with every move she made. She let loose a final sigh and hung up the phone.

Before Killian could stop himself, he burst through the office door.

"Killian." The slightly older woman replied, surprised by the sudden intrusion. He clicked the door shut behind him. Killian felt his skin begin to warm and his breathing even out. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?"

"I will be. Are you?" She nodded, not taking her eyes from him. He reached over to the blinds and twisted the plastic rod hanging from them to close them off, blocking their view, then pushing the lock into the door handle before turning back. His boss cocked a pencil thin eyebrow in curiosity. It was clear she had been crying.

"I have to meet my husband in an hour." She breathed as he stepped towards her.

"I'll try to get you there on time." He growled and smashed his lips against hers. Her hands slipped over his shoulders and she crushed him to her, kissing him back. His own hands were frantic and he slipped her up onto the desk and drug her skirt up to her hips.

"Fuck _yes_ , Jones." She hissed with pleasure against his lips and he dug through his back pocket for his wallet. He fumbled through it for a condom as the brunette in front of him deftly undid the button and zipper at his waist and slid the denim and his sung boxer briefs down over his hips, freeing his length from its confines. His slid the condom on, reaching between her legs, swiping her panties to the side and pushing into her with no preamble whatsoever.

"Yessss." He sighed and began to move firmly against her. "Milah. Oh, Milah." He groaned again and again, pressing his lips and tongue into her neck.

"Don't leave a mark." She instructed and he pulled his head up. Her head was thrown back and he could tell by her breathing she was close. He really needed her to come, maybe even more than he needed to himself. He needed this sinful indulgence, needed to take in her pale skin and dark curls and hear her voice. Needed to drown out a blonde haired, green eyed menace that flickered at the edge of his mind. She clearly needed this too.

He reached between them and applied just the right amount of pressure at her apex to make her fall over the edge and allowed himself to go moments later after her. He and Milah had always had this connection since he started working for her. She was the only person who made him feel anything other than despair since his injury. He could even say that he loved her on some level, and he was pretty sure she felt something for him, too. She detested her husband, that much was sure. Robert Gold was easily the richest man in town, but he was cold, distant, and emotionally unavailable to his wife. Killian filled that void, she had told him. She was in exactly the right place at the right time for him.

"I have to go." She said with a kiss on his cheek as he pulled out of her and disposed of the condom. "But thank you. I needed that."

Killian nodded. "Me, too. Off to make funeral arrangements, then?" He asked and it was Milah's turn to nod.

"It's still not really real. I don't know how to bury my son." She choked down a sob and Killian, just having adjusted himself, wrapped her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head tenderly and she sniffled into his shoulder before chuckling and pulling away. She smoothed the fabric of his shirt out and met his gaze. "Sorry about that."

"You never have to apologize to me, Milah." He pecked her lips. "Go on." He stepped back, helping her down from where she sat on her desk and she adjusted her clothes before giving him a brief smile. She pulled the door open and walked out without another glance back. He blew out a breath and bent at the waist, trying to get his bearings. This wasn't something he ever saw himself doing, having an affair with a married woman. It was wrong and he knew it, but he had an inexplicable draw to Milah. He wasn't even sure who initiated it anymore, how it started, or when. It felt like their dirty little secret had been going on for ages. The fact that Milah hated her husband but was afraid to leave him was of little consolation to his guilty conscience. It was days like today, though, that he was able to push those feelings mostly aside and just be grateful for the relationship, however _unconventional_ it might be. He straightened out his black and blue flannel overshirt and the gray t-shirt underneath before heading into the kitchen for stock.

Before long, he made his way back to the bar to help Ruby finish getting ready to open, but she wasn't there. He remembered she had said something about going back to Granny's for their food and he was again slammed with memories of Emma.

"Fuck." He picked up his bar rag and snapped it over the bar top. "Fuck." He went about his duties with a sigh, getting registers and ice ready, wiping down every available surface. He needed to keep busy.

Ruby came back in, hips swaying, smile on her face, carrying a white paper bag and dropped it on the counter triumphantly.

"Ta-da! Dinner for my favorite manager. And me, of course." She grinned and began to dig into the bag, separating out their food.

"Not hungry, Ruby, but thanks." He muttered and checked their fruit stock. Ruby raised an eyebrow and chewed her mouthful of French fries a little slower, watching Killian.

"What's with you?" She asked, mouth still full. He intentionally numbed himself into autopilot mode. Lying was more comfortable that way.

"Just not hungry. Busy working. We open in twenty. You should be helping." He wagged a finger at her and gave a small smile. Ruby stared back at him with wide, knowing hazel eyes and she swallowed her mouthful of food. Killian actively avoided her gaze and turned around to wipe something on the counter facing away from her.

"And you should be honest. Is this about Emma?" She asked and the name hit him like a brick to the face. He tried to stop the visual flinch but he knew from a quick glance to Ruby's face he hadn't. "It is about Emma. I thought you were over that?"

Autopilot. Regain some composure.

"I am. I'm fine. Finish eating in the office, would you? I'm going to flip the sign soon." He stalked to the end of the bar, desperate to get away from that conversation. Ruby sighed heavily in his wake.

"Whatever you say, boss man." Ruby gave a mock salute and practically skipped off to the back room, white paper sack in hand.

Killian moved to the door and unlocked it, turning the switch for the neon open sign on. Numb was better. Autopilot was all he needed. Then he could work his shift and drink himself into oblivion.

Besides, what was so wrong about Emma returning to town? He was fine. He was dealing with life just fine. Everything was fine. He had whatever this thing was with Milah going, a job he liked and was good at, his injury didn't even slow him down anymore. He had great friends, a great apartment, he and Liam still kept in touch, it was all just _fine_. Wasn't it?

 _'No, you idiot. Emma is home and you never let her go.'_ His inner voice said quietly and he pushed the thought immediately from his mind. The last thing he needed was the toxicity of memories of being in love with Emma Swan.

He. Was. Fine.

Killian's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the arrival of his first group of customers, the local town miners who had just gotten off work. He stepped back behind the bar and plastered on a fake smile to face his shift, resolving that his demons would just have to wait.

Ruby emerged from the back just in time for more customers to come in the door. She made her way around the counter and put some music on the jukebox before heading behind the bar and leaning over it with an order pad.

"What can I get you, honey?" Killian heard the flirtatious voice float back to him as he filled another round of beers for Leroy and the rest of the miners. He smirked. She was out for tips tonight. He turned and saw her basically laying across the counter, her cleavage on full display for the entire bar and the tall, dark haired man rattled off a drink to her, fiddling with the scarf around his neck and not paying her any mind.

The night went by quickly, several patrons filling every corner of the bar. Every time he got a glimpse of blonde hair or heard a laugh like the one that haunted his dreams, he tensed, halfway expecting to turn around and see Emma standing in the building. He was going to go crazy. Hell, he might already be there. At least Archie Hopper would get his money's worth at their next session, damn shrink.

"Killian! Limes!" Ruby clapped next to his head and snapped him from his ruminations. He turned his head to see hazel eyes looking at him expectantly and scarlet lips pressed into a thin line.

"Sorry, lass." He retrieved the bin of precut citrus from underneath the counter where he was standing, handing the fruit to her and making his way back around the bar and onto the floor to collect glasses and generally get away from Ruby's scrutinous gaze. He was definitely getting drunk tonight. He could practically hear the Captain Morgan calling his name.

The bar crowd began to die down about 1:00 AM, a few stragglers remaining until they closed at 2:00. Ruby and Killian made quick work of the cleanup since Killian had occupied his every moment that night with some sort of task, never allowing the bar to get half as bad as it usually did, which wasn't bad at all. Killian Jones ran a tight ship in general. He was just finishing cleaning the soda gun when Ruby emerged from the back hallway.

"Alright, Jones. I just finished up with the men's room. Guys are disgusting, bee tee dubs." Ruby snapped the latex gloves from her hands and dropped them into the trash. "Victor is waiting for me outside. You good to lock up by yourself?"

"Aye, go on with you. Have a good night." He gave her a soft, tired smile and she paused. She opened her mouth as if to say something else and shut it, but didn't leave. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Without another word, she moved back behind the bar and enveloped Killian in a crushing hug, making him grunt in surprise before awkwardly returning it.

"I'm sorry I mentioned anything earlier. I shouldn't have." Ruby offered and Killian stiffened. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. At all. He patted her briefly on the back and disentangled himself from her grip.

"I'm fine, love. Victor's waiting on you. Don't want to give him ideas about you cooped up in here with your devilishly handsome boss, now would we?" He waggled his eyebrows at her in an attempt to deflect and it worked, earning him a halfhearted slap on the shoulder and a smirk before she flounced out the door.

Alone. Finally.

He walked to the jukebox and slipped about ten quarters into it, selecting a few songs and then making his way back to the bar and pouring himself a liberal tumbler of rum. The first swallow burned deliciously down his throat and he promptly topped it off again before wandering to a booth, bottle and glass in tow.

 _"I close my eyes, only for a moment then the moment's gone..."_ The jukebox sang at him and he tipped his head back against the vinyl cushion of the seat he was resting in, closing his eyes tightly.

Fucking Emma Swan. Why did she have to come back here? Why couldn't she have just been happy in New York? He had spent seven _years_ trying to forget his first love, trying to move on. It was all for nothing because as soon as that name fell out of Ruby's painted lips, that scar ripped back open, deeper than ever before. Not that it had ever healed properly in the first place. He poured himself another glass of rum and tossed it back like a shot, draining it in two swallows before filling it a third time. He let the amber liquid tilt against the side of the glass as he felt a low buzzing settle beneath his skin.

His gaze blurred slightly and he looked over the dim lights in the bar. He was doing okay in that moment. The song changed to Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb and Killian chuckled at the irony. Comfortably Numb, indeed. The ring on his pinky clanked against the glass and caused him to look down, brow furrowing. He glowered at the thick scar running along his left hand and up his forearm, disappearing under the rolled sleeve of his blue flannel. Thick and white and curling over the back of his hand in a hooked shape, it was a painful reminder that Emma's fears, the ones that drove her away, were valid. He should have done something other than the military. But he wanted to do his brother proud, even though he had been fighting for the Yanks. Maybe she would have stayed...

~XOXO~

Emma was tired. Eight hours on the road was more than enough for her. She was used to her little yellow bug, but not used to the silence in it away from work. She missed the conversations with Neal so much it hurt. Missed him teasing her about her slight road rage, missed the way he would sing offkey with the radio, missed the way he would toy with her hair while she drove, missed it all. Even if they had separated, she still loved her long time boyfriend. They had problems, sure, but she and Neal had always been friends. She swallowed past the considerable lump in her throat and kept her focus on the road as she passed a small sign that read "Welcome to Storybrooke", the last rays of light from the setting sun illuminating the letters. She was home. For the first time in seven years.

Familiar buildings flitted by, almost as if this place had been frozen in time, waiting for her to come back. It was comforting. She needed this center when her world had just been turned upside down. She needed to get away from the big city. It was impossible for her to go anywhere without being reminded of something that she and Neal had shared. It wasn't fair. She wouldn't ever see him again, hear his voice, hold his hand. He didn't deserve to die in Central Park, all alone, because some mugger wanted the thirty bucks in his wallet. He was just trying to come home from work. She was so angry. Angry for her loss, certainly, but even angrier because it wasn't even really her loss.

"Mama. Need to go potty." A sleepy voice piped up from the backseat. Emma sighed, and glanced in the rearview mirror at her son, forcing a tired smile.

"Okay, sleepy head. We're almost to Uncle David's house." She replied, pressing a little harder on the gas.

"No. Gotta go noooow." The boy whined and began bouncing in his booster seat. Emma grit her teeth. She had to find somewhere fast, so she turned down Main Street. Granny's Diner sat where it always had, neon sign flickering the apostrophe on and off like always. Some things never change.

"Hang on, Henry." She encouraged the young boy as she found a parking spot. She pulled the seat forward and retrieved the brown haired little boy from his seatbelt confines and practically ran through the diner, head ducked down and body working on muscle memory towards where she knew the bathrooms were. She and Henry managed to make it just in time. She washed her son's hands and hers and swung open the bathroom door.

"I KNEW THAT WAS YOU!" A shriek was heard as soon as she took a step towards the doorway and Emma jumped about two feet off the ground.

"Jesus Christ, Ruby!" She panted, trying to regain her composure but the bubbly brunette flung her arms around the blonde. She reflexively closed her hand tighter around the small boy's as she stumbled backwards a couple steps. Emma reached up and gave Ruby a one armed hug back. "I missed you, too." She said softly.

"Oh my gosh how long are you here for? Does David know? How are you? Oh, I have to tell Killian! He's gonna flip!" Ruby squealed and Emma's blood ran cold. Shit. Killian Jones. She was hoping to avoid him entirely. She knew he was still living there and that he wasn't in the military anymore because he broke his hand or something but she didn't dare ask David for more information than that. She had thought of Killian every single day since she left him standing alone in the kitchen and ran as fast and far as she could away from what would inevitably end up for her in loss and pain. She couldn't do that again. She had never stopped loving him and that was the biggest reason she and Neal had split up. Emma had loved Neal for certain, but it was more a love you give to someone who is your best friend, not your soulmate. She and Neal had made a go of it after she had gotten pregnant with Henry, but he knew her heart belonged to someone else, so he let his wander as well, and he ended up sleeping with the neighbor across the hall. The worst part was she hadn't even been mad when he told her about it. She knew she deserved it after what happened with Killian. She was hurt, to be certain, but on another level, she couldn't really blame him. She had avoided her feelings for Killian like the plague for almost a decade. And here she was, back in the thick of it.

"Yeah, Ruby, listen I'll call you after I settle in at David's and maybe we'll have lunch or something, but we're running kinda late to get to David and Mary Margaret's house." Emma gave Henry's hand a little tug and he stared boldly up at Ruby. Ruby's eyes were as big as saucers.

"Is this...your...?" Ruby asked softly and Emma gave a half smile, nodding. Ruby sank down to the floor and introduced herself, holding out her hand for Henry to shake.

"My name is Henry Swan. I'm five and a half years old." He told Ruby confidently and smiled up at his mom. Emma's eyes brimmed with tears, forcing herself to give him a watery smile in return. She couldn't help but think how much Henry looked like his father in that moment with his bright, inquisitive brown eyes and head full of sandy brown hair. His eyes crinkled with his smile, just as Neal's had.

"Henry, I'm so glad to meet you. I hope I get to see you again soon." Ruby smiled warmly and dropped the boy's hand before standing and hugging Emma again. "I hope I see you again soon, too, Em. It's been too long." She squeezed her old friend and Emma fought against breaking down right there. She gave Ruby a lackluster smile and promised to call as she pulled away and headed out the door to her brother's house.

Her little yellow bug was slow to start, almost as tired as she was, but as soon as she was on the road, it wasn't a long trip down the well-known streets of her formative years. She pulled up outside the small farmhouse and parked behind a maroon colored station wagon next to her brother's old Ford truck and let the engine rumble to a stop. As soon as she stepped out of the car and flipped the seat up to collect her son, the screen door came banging open and Emma braced herself.

"Oh my God, you're here!" Mary Margaret's enthusiastic voice screeched out into the yard. She heard the thumping of rapid footsteps behind her as she lifted the small child into her arms and turned around to be barreled into by the petite woman. She wrapped her arms around the both of them and squeezed. Emma knew in that moment she was truly home.

"Auntie you're squishing me!" Henry's small voice complained and Mary Margaret pulled back with a laugh, wiping tears from her bright eyes and smoothing back the ebony hair into her pixie cut. She cupped Henry's face in her hands and smiled brighter.

"I'm sorry, Henry. I missed you so much!" She proclaimed and laughed through another sob. Tears tugged at Emma's eyes as well as she set her son down.

"Uncle David!" Henry squealed and ran towards the house. Emma looked up and saw her brother waiting in front of the screen door and bending down to scoop the boy into his arms, swinging him into a bear hug. Henry giggled wildly and David headed down the porch steps with him in his arms. Emma moved to the front of her car to grab their bags, but before she could even open the trunk, David grabbed her arm and crushed her to him, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Emma choked down the lump in her throat and gripped her brother tightly.

"Hey, Em. What do you need?" David asked, laying his cheek on her head. He had learned long ago not to ask if she was okay, because that would cause her immediately to clam up and throw up her defenses. She shook her head against his chest and sighed, feeling safe and loved in her brother's arms.

"Mama is sad cause dad is gone." Henry said innocently and Emma's heart broke a little more. She tensed and David gripped her a little tighter before letting her go.

"I know you need space, Emma. But I'm here for whatever you need. We both are." He stepped closer to his wife and Henry struggled out of his arms into Mary Margaret's. Emma smiled, grateful, and moved back to the trunk of her car. David followed, stepping in front of her and grabbing the bags before she got the chance. Emma rolled her eyes. She wasn't helpless. Mary Margaret was already carrying Henry inside, promising things like hot chocolate and to see the animals on the farm.

David carried the bags in the house, Emma on his heels, and deposited them in front of the door. Mary Margaret had taken Henry in the kitchen and was serving up four mugs of hot chocolate already. Emma looked around. Ruth's house looked almost nothing like her childhood home. It was perfectly David and Mary Margaret but something about it settled and centered Emma. She knew the floorboards, she knew the rooms, even the carpet was the same. It was still home. She walked robotically into the kitchen where Mary Margaret was tickling Henry and he was shrieking with laughter. Emma smiled her first genuine smile in days. Henry was a tough kid. But was he too young? Would there be memories of Neal for him? Would there be a time when he couldn't remember what his dad looked like, what his voice sounded like?

"Emma?" David's voice broke through her hazy thoughts as he registered the panic on her face. She met his pale blue eyes and saw the concern etched in them, asking if she was okay without asking, and it only added to her panic. Emma shook her head and plastered on a fake smile.

"Yeah, I'm good." She gently brushed off her brother and moved next to Mary Margaret, who was also eyeing her carefully. "This one for me?" Emma ignored her look as well and reached for the hot cocoa on the counter.

"Oh! Yes! Wait, though." The bubbly brunette made her way to the spice rack near the stove and returned a moment later, precariously balancing Henry on one hip as she shook the jar in her hand over the mug. Emma smiled.

"Cinnamon. You remembered." Her sister-in-law smiled fondly back at her words.

"Of course, Emma." She picked up another mug and handed it to Henry, and a third she handed to David before picking up the final mug for herself.

The silence in the kitchen was uncomfortable. She could feel David and Mary Margaret's eyes on her as they all sipped from their mugs. Henry began to wriggle in Mary Margaret's arms and she set him on the floor, wiping his brown cocoa moustache with a napkin before he darted away to play in the living room. David and his wife shared a look as the boy left the room before turning their sights back to Emma. She sighed, knowing exactly what was coming.

"I'm really fine." She cut them off at the pass and Mary Margaret's face softened into a sympathetic purse of her lips.

"Emma. You're not. And that's okay." David said gently and tears threatened at the corners of Emma's eyes again. She swallowed down the sob in her throat forcefully as her sister-in-law's own tears spilled down her cheeks. She dabbed at them with another napkin. David reached up to put a hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Don't." She warned, knowing she couldn't hold it together if her brother offered her comfort. David stilled his hand and then changed directions, running it through his short blonde hairhair then scrubbing it over his face. Emma took a few shaky breaths to calm herself.

"The service is tomorrow at noon." David said quietly. Emma nodded in response. She looked over to the living room and found her son curled up on the couch, asleep.

"Henry and I, we've had a long day. I think we should go to bed." She said, voice hollow.

"Sure. We've got your old room set up for you." Mary Margaret said, eyes trained on Emma. David left the room without another word and began to bring their bags upstairs. Emma started out of the room but the petite woman standing next to her stopped her and wrapped her in a tight hug, which Emma returned halfheartedly to avoid giving in to her threatening emotions. Being coddled wasn't something she was ever in favor of. She sighed heavily and pulled out of Mary Margaret's grip, giving her a soft, apologetic smile and making her way to her son's sleeping form.

"Why don't you leave him, Em." David said coming back down the stairs. "Get some sleep." Emma shook her head in response.

"No, I don't want him to wake up and be alone." She scooped the boy into her arms and cuddled him close. She avoided David and Mary Margaret's eyes as she made her way upstairs mumbling a goodnight that they returned in kind. She truly didn't want Henry to wake up alone in a house he wasn't familiar with but if she was being honest, making sure her son was asleep next to her would ensure that she wasn't going to have a breakdown.

It was no big surprise that Emma's childhood bedroom looked the exact same as when she had left it when she skipped town with Neal when she was eighteen. Mary Margaret was nothing if not sentimental. She laid Henry gently on the canopy bed frilled in pink lace and smirked. Ruth always treated her like a princess, though she was very much a tomboy. She felt a pang in her gut and wished harder than she had in some time that her mother was here to bolster her strength. Shaking the feeling off, she moved to the place next to her desk that David had set their bags to fish out some pajamas for herself and Henry. She paused as she approached them as the bulletin board hanging above the desk came into view. She ran her fingers over ticket stubs to the movies and concerts, and her hand immediately stilled as she reached a Polaroid tucked into the corner of the frame.

Killian and she sat side by side in the picture, his eyes on her and a grin on his face as she laughed at something he sang. His battered acoustic guitar sat in his lap, his dexterous fingers pressed into just the right places. Her hand was on his knee and she could almost feel the denim as she rubbed her fingers together absent mindedly. They were both seventeen, it was her birthday as a matter of fact. Later on that night, he had drawn her into his arms and told her he wanted to date her for the very first time. She remembered the scent of his cologne and feeling like she wanted to run away from this intimacy, but his arms around her waist rooted her to the spot. She had accepted but made an excuse about being sick for the next week to avoid actually taking the plunge for the next week. He had finally come to her house and she couldn't avoid him any longer. The rest was history.

Emma tore herself away from the board with a shaky breath. Killian Jones was the single biggest regret she ever had in her life. She didn't regret the rebound fling with Neal that resulted in Henry and the following relationship. She didn't regret her relationship with Killian at all. She didn't regret much in her life, but walking out on Killian and trying desperately (and failing spectacularly) to remove him from the nitch he had whittled into her heart was definitely a moment she looked back on and frequently wished she could change. She tried to shake the thoughts from her head as she changed her son and then herself and lay down on the bed next to his small sleeping form, but the very last thing she saw before she slipped away into restless sleep were a pair of the bluest eyes she could ever remember seeing in her life boring into her very soul.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Heyyyyyy guys! So...it's been a minute. Sorry! Life got in the way, health issues and the like. But I never abandon anything, so here we are. For those of you waiting on updates for _Fate_ and _Persecuted_ , rest assured, there are chapters in progress right now that I'm hoping to publish by the end of next week. I've also got a couple one shots in the works, so keep your eye out for those once I wrap up my current WIP's. So, without further adieu...**

 **TRIGGER WARNING - DESCRIPTIONS OF A DEAD BODY, PHYSICAL VIOLENCE.**

Emma smoothed her hands over the skirt of the black dress she wore, examining her appearance in the floor length mirror affixed to the back of her bedroom door. Neal always liked her in black. She wished it was for a date with him instead of his funeral. It would be all she could do to keep herself together. Henry would help. She could be strong for her son, if nothing else. Her hair was down, falling in golden ringlets over her shoulders. She applied her lipstick slowly. She wasn't even sure why she bothered with her appearance. Neal wouldn't care, even if he was alive. Maybe she was doing it to impress his ass of a father, but since when did she care about that? His parents never liked her anyways. After all, she was the runaway who he knocked up and had whisked him off to New York. If they only knew how much of that was actually Neal's idea. How much Neal had taught her about lock picking, shoplifting, and stealing cars (including her beloved yellow bug that he eventually got legal) when they had first got to New York and were still trying to get on their feet. But, sure. _She_ was the one corrupting _him._ She smirked at the thought.

"Mama you look pretty." Her son's voice came from behind her and she turned with a smile as he shuffled into the room in his tiny black suit. She sank to her knees and wrapped the boy in a hug. His hair was moppish; he would need a haircut soon. It was ironic in a sense he had come into the room and interrupted her thoughts of misbehavior with Neal. He was, after all, what led her back to the straight and narrow. What caused then both to clean up their acts.

"You look so handsome, kid." She kissed the crown of his head and nuzzled his overlong hair. A soft knock sounded on the door and she looked up to see David poke his head in. He was dressed in a black suit of his own.

"We gotta head out, Em." He said softly and she sighed, rising to her feet. She toed her black heels on and took Henry's hand. David stood aside as they made their way out of the room and followed her down the stairs. Mary Margaret was finishing fastening her watch around her wrist before running her hands over her black sweater and charcoal gray skirt. Her head popped up and her green eyes locked with Emma's own emerald depths as they reached the bottom of the staircase.

"You look great, Emma." She said with a warm smile.

"You, too, M-n-M." She smiled back and Mary Margaret rolled her eyes at the nickname. David put an arm around his sister and squeezed. He rubbed her arm briskly before he removed it and smoothed Henry's hair to one side.

"Time to go." David moved forward to help his wife with the cake she had made for the wake. Deciding earlier in the day that it would be easiest to take one car, they all piled into Mary Margaret's station wagon and headed out to the cemetery. It was a relatively short drive but the closer they got, the more panic set in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was sixteen all over again, getting ready to bury her mother. All the familiar buildings and roads that sped by were the same she had travelled that day. She focused on Henry and reminded herself that she needed to be strong for her little boy who was burying his father today.

It was sunny. A stark contrast from her mother's funeral that rainy April day almost ten years ago. It was September now, not a storm cloud in sight. Emma's heels squished in the freshly watered grass as she followed David and his wife to the gravesite holding Henry by the hand. Neal's parents were already there, his mother speaking to the reverend and his father standing next to the coffin, leaning against his cane. She couldn't see either of their faces as their backs were turned. It was just as well. Neal had never been close to his parents. Not his father, especially. She had only met them once when they visited New York when Henry was two. Neal ended up spending their entire trip fighting with his father and getting frustrated with his mother's excuses as to why she stayed with him. He had never forgiven him for running off with his secretary for two years when he was just a kid. The last time the two had spoken, something had transpired that caused Neal to forbid his father from coming anywhere near him, Emma, or Henry again and his mother unfortunately became collateral damage in the feud due to her unwillingness to brave things on her own. Whatever had happened, Neal took that secret to his grave.

There was something about Milah Gold that Emma never liked. She obviously loved Neal, and he loved her as well, but her unwavering loyalty to her husband whom mother and son alike both seemed to detest was unfavorable at best. In Emma's mind, she was a gold digger, plain and simple, accustomed to a certain lifestyle her husband could afford, and she wasn't willing to give it up. They sent Henry lavish gifts on his birthday and Christmas and Neal spoke to his mother on the phone once a week, but that was the extent of the contact and even effort they had made. Emma herself was little more than a blip on their radar.

Henry stumbled a little and Emma dipped to pull him up into her arms, making her way around the gravesite and walking as far away from the casket as possible for as long as possible. When she saw that the casket was open, she froze immediately in her tracks and the sound of her own heartbeat filled her ears. David and Mary Margaret paused beside her and followed her gaze. Emma clutched her son a little tighter and David immediately sprung into action, walking towards the reverend and Milah. Mary Margaret gently turned towards Emma and tried to engage her in conversation, but Emma couldn't understand anything she was saying, eyes still riveted to the coffin that Neal lay in. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was in there. Identifying his body had been bad enough. And now Henry was here.

 _Oh, shit. Henry._

She could _not_ let her five year old see his father's dead body.

David spoke animatedly to the stone faced brunette and Emma stood a little taller, cupping her hand on the back of her son's head to avert his sight from the open box as Milah shot a glance to them. She listened to David, nodding along but her eyes didn't move from Emma's. Emma stared right back, angry, grief stricken tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Before long, Neal's father, Robert Gold himself, limped his way across the grass with purposeful strides and snaked his arm around Milah's waist, insinuating himself between the woman and Emma's brother.

Emma passed Henry to Mary Margaret and stomped over to where the arrangements were being discussed.

"Henry doesn't need to see that!" David said exasperated, his back to Emma so he didn't see her approach.

"I understand you're upset." Milah said evenly, looking at Emma over David's shoulder. "But look at it this way. Henry deserves the chance to say goodbye. His family and friends deserve the chance to say goodbye."

"Henry does _not_ need to see his father's dead body!" Emma raged and David spun on his heel.

"No offense, _Miss Swan_ ," Mr. Gold hissed her name as if it were a four letter word. "but you and my son were no longer together. You were never his wife. You are not paying for these arrangements and frankly, neither your nor your brother's opinions matter. Excuse us." He swept his wife away to the rows of chairs in front of the casket and they took their seats as more people began to file into the space. Emma felt numb and David wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders.

"We can sit near the back, Emma." David said softly. Emma didn't respond but allowed her brother to steer her back towards Mary Margaret and Henry and take a seat at the back row.

Emma found the whole service pretentious. Neal wasn't religious but that didn't stop the reverend from spouting bible verses one after the other. Emma knew it was the man's job, but she felt like it was especially overkill. Maybe it was her own bitterness at his loss. The awful things she had been through as a child before she found her family, being abandoned, Neal being taken so unfairly, Henry growing up without a father, what kind of God would allow things like this to happen? Through her haze she saw the mourners rise and begin to shuffle in a single file towards the coffin, passing one by one to pay their respects. Some of them even reached in to touch his form and Emma's blood boiled. No one should be touching him. David and Mary Margaret remained steadfastly seated beside Emma. Henry began to wriggle in David's lap as the last of the mourners began to file by. David turned and handed his nephew off to his wife and in the process, the boy evaded their grips and began to bolt towards the line of people.

"Henry!" Mary Margaret shouted and Emma saw everything happening in slow motion. Henry's little shoes pounded towards the casket as David, Emma, and Mary Margaret all sprung to their feet. Milah darted towards Henry, lifting him into her arms right as he reached the casket and just before the three arrived.

"Daddy? Wait! Gramma! Daddy's there! Daddy's asleep! Daddy wake up!" Henry cried out at the sight beyond Milah's shoulder and Emma's resolve snapped. Milah's heartbroken pale blue gaze met Emma's rage filled emerald. She stepped up to snatch her son from the woman's arms and she glanced past her, causing her breath to catch. Neal looked so...serene. It was unreal. He could have been asleep. It took everything in Emma as her gaze swept over him laying there to convince herself that he was _not_ , in fact, asleep. He was gone. He wasn't coming back. Neal was dead. Emma tore her eyes away from Neal's peaceful face and back to Milah, who was still trying to contain the small boy desperate to reach his father, tears streaming down her face. She offered the boy forward as best she could.

"I'm sorry, Emma." She choked out as Emma grabbed her son and turned him around. She collapsed to the ground with Henry in her arms, grief and heart break finally weighing her down.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Henry screamed and Emma cupped his face and tried to find words.

"Henry! Listen to me!" She spoke a little louder than normal, trying to focus her frantic child. His small hazel eyes turned back to his mother. "Henry, daddy's not in that body anymore. He can't wake up. Daddy is gone. He's gone, baby. He's gone. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Henry." She sobbed out and Henry's eyes grew wider, spilling over with his own tears. His chubby fingers clung to her shoulders as he buried his face in her neck and wailed as only a child could. Emma wrapped her arms around her son and let her own dam burst. Hot, angry, broken tears fell into Henry's hair and they just sat on the ground, clinging to one another, crying. She wasn't sure how long they had sat there.

"Emma." David's soft voice urged her back to the present. Her eyes blinked away the last of her tears and looked up at her brother. His own jaw was trembling and Mary Margaret had moved away from them, her face buried in her hands, shoulders heaving with her own quiet sobs. "Come on. Let's go." He pulled her to her feet, Henry still clinging to her and hiccuping.

"Wait." Milah's voice was soft, apologetic. Emma turned and met her gaze steadily. "I am sorry." She said, barely above a whisper. Emma nodded, not trusting her own voice, but wanting some kind of peace. Milah nodded in kind. "Will we see you at the wake?" She asked hesitantly. Emma paused only a brief moment before nodding again and turning on her heel to stalk out of the graveyard. Her brother and sister-in-law were hot on her heels.

Henry fell asleep in the car on the way to The Golden Goose. Emma should have seen it coming after their emotional display at the service. She just hoped there would be a place he could rest at this...bar? Whatever it was that the Golds owned. Emma, David, and Mary Margaret were quiet the whole ride. Numbness washed over Emma at what had just happened. She hadn't wanted to look, for Henry to see. It was harder seeing him in that coffin than it had been to identify his body, which should have been the exact opposite. He looked like he was asleep. She wanted to run up to him and run her hands through his wavy brown hair and shake him until he woke up. When he was on the metal slab in the morgue, it was more real. He looked lifeless then, pale skin, hair slicked back, gunshot wound marring his bare chest. She could process and compartmentalize her grief seeing him that way. Letting herself believe for a single second he was still with them and then reminding herself he wasn't was a special kind of torture. She shook her head, trying to compose herself before heading inside. None of them made a move to exit the car after the engine was killed.

"Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should just go home." David mused almost to himself in the driver's seat.

"No. I'm fine." Emma said immediately, ignoring the way her brother's head snapped back towards her seat to protest. She exited the car and made her way around to the other side to retrieve her sleeping boy. Mary Margaret and David shared a look before getting out of the car themselves, the petite brunette armed with a Tupperware container full of spice cake. They all made their way towards the door without another protest from David.

 **~XOXO~**

"Get those last two tables set, and we had better have that tap issue worked out!" Killian snapped at no one in particular, but his bar crew, rather Ruby and Will Scarlett, seemed to trudge into action anyways. He wished now more than ever he was drunk. He was grateful to have avoided the funeral itself, but of course the Golds would insist on holding their son's wake here. Killian didn't do funerals. The last funeral he had been to was for a fallen comrade of his. Good man. Taken too soon. Just like he almost was. Emma was right.

 _No. Do not think about her today._

The bar looked nicer than usual. It was still a bar but it was...classier? If there was such a term for a wake being held in a bar. He didn't know this Neal bloke. He couldn't even be there for Milah today with her slimy husband slithering around. He usually avoided this place like the plague, giving Milah and Killian free range over everything (and as a result, each other) while he managed their pawn shop. But he couldn't exactly avoid his son's wake without drawing unwanted attention to himself, no matter how much Killian wished he would just disappear.

He did a final sweep of inventory, making sure everything was set just right. It was 2:30. The service was at 1:00. People would be arriving soon.

Right on cue, the bell rang signifying someone coming through the door. Killian's head popped up and saw the sheriff's somber face, a man he had thankfully only had the pleasure of dealing with professionally when he rounded up the more rowdy drunks.

The man nodded to Killian, short copper curls bouncing with the movement as he made his way across the bar.

"Sheriff." Killian said in greeting.

"Jones." The man greeted back, Irish brogue rolling over his tongue. "Good to see you, mate."

"Aye. Shit circumstances, but good to see you as well. Did you know him?" Killian leaned against the bar and nodded towards the picture of Neal proudly displayed on the end of it. The sheriff shook his head briefly.

"No, David did, though. His sister was dating the guy, I guess. I'm here for moral support." Killian felt like he had been punched in the gut at the sheriff's words. Surely not _that_ David, surely not _that_ sister...

"David Nolan? Your deputy?" He asked, eyes wide with disbelief. There was no way things could line up like this. If he was talking about David, then his sister would be here for the wake certainly, and that would mean...

"Oh yeah, here they are now." The bell on the door rang out and Killian's mouth went dry. David's wife was first through the door, pushing the sunglasses on her face up to rest on her short ebony hair and reaching behind her to hold the door. Killian felt his breath catch in his throat as the person behind the petite brunette came into view.

Emma made her way into the room, sunshine colored curls swinging over her shoulders and sweeping over the small boy in her arms _\- Hers?_ he wondered briefly. She shifted towards Mary Margaret, whispering something to her and David came in behind the two. She was even more stunning than he remembered. She had clearly been crying but he could see the green of her eyes even across the room. Her face looked as if she hadn't aged a day in the last seven years. The heat of the day, or emotion, perhaps a bit of both, colored her cheeks a beautiful rosy pink, accentuating the dusting of freckles at the apple of each. Pain lanced through him at the memory of the last time he saw that face.

"Mate?" A pair of fingers snapped in front of Killian's face and he blinked hard in response, looking back towards the sheriff.

"Aye. So, drink, Humbert?" Killian murmured, trying desperately to keep his eyes from the blonde as she made her way through the room. It seemed she hadn't noticed him yet.

"Sure. Scotch on the rocks." Killian set about making the drink and chanced a glance across the room. Emma was nowhere to be seen. Maybe that was for the best. He could see if Will needed help in the kitchen. Ruby could handle the bar tonight. Before he could make his escape, Emma emerged from the banquet room sans child in her arms and her eyes locked with his, stilling the breath in his chest once again. Her eyes widened with emotion but Killian couldn't quite make out which one. Fear? Regret? Shame? Sadness? He guessed there was only one way to find out, and that was to rip this bandaid off once and for all.

Killian slid the tumbler to the sheriff without another word and kept his eyes glued to Emma's as he made his way to the end of the counter. His intentions becoming clear, Emma glanced around briefly and bolted for the back exit.

"Should have known she'd run." Killian muttered under his breath as he darted off after her. He thought he heard a vaguely familiar voice call after him, another woman's this time, but he was so wrapped in the moment, he didn't even give it a second thought. The door was still on the backswing when he pushed it back open, sending it clattering unintentionally against the brick exterior. Emma walked briskly down the alleyway where the door had exited.

"Emma!" Killian called and she froze momentarily only to pick up her pace into a half walk half jog. He broke out into a full run after her and snagged her by the arm. "Swan, just wait a second."

Whatever he had been prepared for when she turned on him, it certainly wasn't the wide rivulets of tears coursing down her face. Nor the absolute brokenness in her eyes.

"I can't do this today, Killian. Not today." She choked out, trying desperately to keep her sobbing in check. He shook his head.

 _No._ She didn't get to have a reprieve when she's haunted his every second for the last seven years. He _wasn't_ going to feel his own wounds reopen at the sight of the heartbreak in her eyes. She didn't _deserve_ to feel heartbroken over him. She did this. Not him. Her. Emma Fucking Swan. Standing in front of him like a golden haired goddess, making him want to forget every hurt she had ever caused him and wrap her in his arms to take away her own pain.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. He had a whole list of things he would say to her if they ever crossed paths again. He would show her just how happy he was without her. How _wrong_ she was for leaving him.

He...

She...

They...

But instead, he found himself nodding.

"Aye, Swan. Not today, then. But rest assured, we will see this conversation through." He could feel the muscle in his jaw twitch as he stood in her presence. A wash of gratitude crossed her features and she nodded in kind.

"Okay." That was all she could manage to whisper. Neither one of them made to move away from one another. Blue eyes burned into green. His hand remained steadfast on her arm and silence settled between them.

The back door flung open again and David came running through it, breaking the two from their reverie. They jumped apart from one another and turned to face Emma's brother.

"Oh, looks like you guys found each other..." He said uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to the other. "I didn't think you would be working today, Killian. I thought the Golds were hiring caterers."

"Aye, they did. But I'm still the manager and people still needed drinks. If you'll excuse me." Killian swept past David with the finite statement and the door closed behind him. Emma stayed riveted to the spot, staring blankly into the alleyway, arm half suspended away from her body where Killian had held it. David moved towards her cautiously, as one would a wounded animal.

"You...okay, Em?" He spoke after a moment and she shook her head lightly to clear herself from the daze she was trapped in before meeting her brother's concerned gaze. She nodded very slowly, not sure if she believed it herself or trusted her own voice at this point. David blew out a held breath. "I honestly didn't think he would be here, Emma. I'm...so, so sorry." Emma could only nod again and David led her back into the bar as numbness continued to settle over her.

The space had filled up considerably in her short absence. Mr. Gold was seated in the very corner behind the jukebox, nursing a tumbler full of amber liquid quite steadily. Milah was flitting around the buffet tables, making sure everything was set up. Killian emerged from the kitchen to replace a couple of bottles behind the bar. She didn't miss the way Milah squeezed Killian's bicep as she passed him and the way she skimmed her fingers down his arm as she let go. She wished she would have missed it. Then she wouldn't have the irrational feeling of jealousy at the motion, heartbreak for remembering he's not hers to be jealous over, and rage that he's not only involved in an affair, but one with her recently deceased recently split boyfriend's mother?! What the actual fuck?! It was at this point, Emma was fully convinced that if she didn't have bad luck, she'd have none at all. Her life was a massive joke to the powers of the universe, she was sure of it.

Emma spun out of David's grip and started to march towards the ladies room when something caught her eye that was a sight worse from what she just witnessed with Killian.

 _She_ was here.

Emma's blood ran cold. What business did the woman that Neal cheated with have being here? How utterly and completely disrespectful. They weren't even _together_ after Emma and he split. So. Why. Was. She. Here??? Before Emma could process rational thought, her trajectory changed - straight towards Tamara.

The level of rage she felt must have been pouring off of her in near visible amounts because as soon as Tamara's eyes met Emma's, they widened in fear and she began to back away. Everything in the room began to go in slow motion. Lights blurred. Sounds muffled. All She could see through the red haze was this _woman_. She heard David and Mary Margaret call out to her vaguely, Tamara's lips started moving in some sort of excuse about how she "owed it to Neal to pay her respects" but all of Emma's motions seemed to be working at full speed because she pulled her fist back and let it connect with a sickening crack across Tamara's jaw, knocking her to the ground.

Chaos.

Everything sped back up and Emma made to grab Tamara and finish what she'd started but her arms were suddenly pinned from behind.

"Emma! Christ! Stop!" Her brother's voice was grunting in her ear, trying to contain her and lift her as well. Suddenly, Killian was in front of her shouting orders for people to stay back and a bag of ice be brought out. Tamara was still hunched over on the ground, fingers pressing tenderly to her jaw, glaring at Emma. Emma's wriggling continued and then she heard her sister-in-law and the sharp crying of a child. She froze immediately and looked over to the doorway just in time for Mary Margaret to push a now awake Henry back into the room he had been laid down in. His tear streaked face looked so frightened.

 _Frightened of her._

She tried to call out for him, but her voice was swallowed by a wracking sob that tore from her throat. David and Killian guided her back through the kitchen and into the office, David still carrying her. He sat her gently in the chair behind the desk and wrapped her in his arms as she continued to sob. Killian made to shut the door behind him but a hand caught it just in time. Killian pulled the door back open to see the intruder and the sheriff slipped through the barrier.

David sighed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut as he realized what Graham Humbert's presence meant. "She's my sister. She's grieving, she-"

"-punched a woman in the face in front of twenty five witnesses?" Graham interrupted as gently as he could.

"So just give her a summons. Don't do this, man." David had now stood up and was facing the Irishman, his voice shaky.

"I'm sorry mate, the woman is pressing charges." He said so low that Emma almost missed it before speaking up and stepping around David. "Emma Swan, you're under arrest for assault." Both David and Killian's voices broke out in protest through the office as Graham gently pulled Emma to her feet and began to handcuff her and read off her Miranda rights. He turned them around to lead her out of the office.

"Mate, _please_ think about this" Killian stepped in front of the door.

"I don't have much of a choice. I can't play favorites." He told Killian and then looked at David. "I'm sorry, mate." David snarled at Graham as he tried to fight back angry tears and then looked at Emma who had remained eerily silent at the whole ordeal, cupping her face in his palms.

"I'm following you to the station. It's going to be okay." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm fine, David. It's not like it's the first time I've been to jail, or even to jail over Neal. Please, just take care of Henry." She said flatly, emotionless. She was closing off her walls. Her eyes were dull, lacking any of the sparkle they had held.

Killian felt anger threaten to overwhelm him. That bastard had allowed her to get arrested over him? And she _stayed_? How could she have chosen to stay for Neal but not for him? He was going to have to explain all of this to Milah as well. That was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to.

Of all the fucked up things he could have gotten himself involved in, he never would have dreamed the lines would cross like this. Few things left Killian Jones speechless, but speechless he was indeed at this very moment.

"I have to let you know, David, you can't sign out on her bail because you're with the department." Graham said softly and David's mouth dropped open, a fresh flush of anger coloring his face.

"I'll do it." Killian interrupted and all eyes in the room turned to him. Killian's gaze locked firmly with Emma's and a glance of emotion flickered through her eyes at his declaration. "Looks like we'll get to have that talk after all, Swan." He murmured. Emma stared blankly at him, as if she wasn't sure what he had just offered or what to say, and before she could figure it out, Graham led the blonde from the room.

Killian scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at David, who was still staring gobsmacked at him. In all honesty, Killian wasn't even sure himself what made him offer up his services. The sound of her numbness to the situation cut him in ways he didn't think he could feel for Emma Swan again. The thought of her sitting in a jail cell sat even less well with him.

"So...you want to carpool?" Killian quipped with a heavy sigh and David could only just close his mouth and nod. The two men headed out the door in a rush, only pausing to pass off the bar keys and an explanation to Ruby.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: So this chapter is kind of angsty, but y'all know I love angst by now if you've read my other fics. I really wanted to capture the human element of a breakup here (especially if there is still love there), people messing up, making the wrong choices, being selfish, building walls, and I'm not sure if I actually did capture that, but I tried. I'm not entirely happy with it (especially the part explaining her past with Neal), but I feel like if I did anything else to it, it would make it worse. So here we go! As always, thanks for reading and reviewing! I appreciate and adore you all! Just a reminder! I'm still looking for a beta! If you're interested, let me know!**

"To the left." Graham instructed and Emma's feet shuffled at the command, the lost and found sneakers on her feet squeaking with the movement. Her heels were probably still at the bar. She had lost them somewhere in the middle of the chaos. A flashbulb went off and she winced, knowing she now had a new set of mugshots to immortalize her poor decision making. Her track record spoke volumes about poor decisions. Why stop now?

"To the right."

Emma's feet shuffled again, the same blank stare on her face as before. The flashbulb went off again, causing her to jump only slightly.

"Face me." Grahams voice was soft, almost apologetic. Emma faced him and stared at the spot on the wall behind him as the final flash went off and Graham stepped forward to guide her into the chair next to the desk. She blinked the spots from her eyes caused by the bursts of light from the camera. From the corner of her vision, she saw David pacing back and forth in the lobby beyond the glass windows of the bullpen, phone fixed to his ear. Killian stood next to where David paced, his eyes trained on Emma. She ignored them both and rattled off automatic answers about her age, weight, tattoos, scars, anything Graham asked. It was all too familiar.

Neal had always promised her bigger and better things. New York was where they were going to find them. But the fairy tale ending didn't include being homeless, shoplifting things to survive, or so she thought. A car for a house and $10,000 in stolen watches later, Emma found herself on the wrong side of the law. It was supposed to be so simple. He had already stolen the watches. She just needed to get them because there was too much of a connection to him. And dammit if Neal wasn't persuasive. He insisted she wasn't going to get caught. She only had one watch on her, but it was enough. In retrospect, she should have expected it. Even Bonnie and Clyde got caught eventually. But the difference was Clyde never rolled over on Bonnie. When the cop showed up in that alleyway instead of Neal, Emma knew he had sold her out for the crime he had actually committed. She remembered feeling scared, betrayed, and intensely ashamed. Transport to the station and processing had been a blur of her trying to choke down the bile threatening to explode from her throat. She was left alone, just like she spent her childhood.

But when he showed up at the jail at 9:00 AM the next morning after bailing her out with apologies, promises of love, kisses, and a bouquet of crumpled buttercups he'd pilfered from the corner florist, Emma had been so overwhelmed with feelings of abandonment being washed away that all was forgiven in her naïve 18 year old mind. At the time, he was all she thought she had left after up and running away from her family the way she did. She was sentenced to community service, and two weeks later she found out she was pregnant with Henry; the rest was history. It would only be much later that she would recognize that as the point that she lost her trust in Neal and their relationship had begun its steady decline.

Mechanically, Emma scratched her signature across several pages as Graham laid them in front of her. She didn't even feel the press and roll of her fingers as the inky prints rolled over her evidence card. She could tell Graham was trying to be as efficient and gentle as possible, but Emma couldn't even find it in herself to be appreciative. She just wanted to go home to Henry. He was all that mattered now and the only reason she felt anything at all after the shit show of a day she had. Graham stood and filed away her information, leaving her cuffed to the side of the chair. Like she would actually go anywhere. Even if every bone in her self preserving body was screaming at her to run, she couldn't leave Henry. He was her foundation. She let Henry's little face consume her thoughts and bring her to a center.

"Emma?" David's soft voice caused her head to sweep blankly towards the sound and she watched, detached, as he and Killian, led by Graham, made their way towards her, approaching cautiously, as one would a wounded animal. Emma felt her lips draw into a thin line. If she didn't acknowledge their concern, she wouldn't have to feel it. Graham wordlessly redirected Killian to his office to file the bail for her, leaving David and her alone. David's mouth opened and he made a sound in the back of his throat as if he wanted to say something but he wasn't quite sure what.

"I'm fine." Emma cut in immediately, stoic to a fault. David's forehead crinkled at the dismissal.

"You're not, Em. And that's okay. You just need space. And time. And that's okay, too. I'm here when you're ready." Emma's resolve almost broke at her brother's soft voice, cornflower blue eyes trying desperately to read her, but she hardened herself again, acknowledging him with a swift but gentle nod. David's phone began to ring again, and he gave a soft sigh at the sound.

"That'll be Mary Margaret again. I'll let her know what's going on." He pulled his phone from his pocket and answered it, but Emma had already tuned him back out. Moment's later, the door to Graham's office swung open and Killian and the sheriff emerged. David ended his call and hurried back to Emma's side.

"Alright, lass." Graham leaned over and uncuffed her from the chair she was strapped to. "Your arraignment is Monday morning at 8:00 AM. Take these papers," he handed her a stack of papers that she reached out for shakily but David quickly intercepted, irking her further. "Ah, okay, right, _those_ papers," he continued as David ignored him and began reading over the documents. "And give them to your lawyer, if you've got one, or we can find you one if you fill out the paperwork in that packet. Anything you need from me?" Emma gave a brief shake of her head and stood swiftly, anxious to get out of the building. Graham nodded back in response.

"Right, so you're free to go. David, just a quick word before you head out." Graham gave another small smile and left back to his office. David stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Emma's forehead.

"Wait here, Em. I'll be right back and we can head home." David turned and followed Graham into his office and shut the door behind him. She sat back down, staring daggers at the floor, feeling entirely too much like a petulant child.

And she was left alone with Killian.

"Well, I know we said maybe not today, but perhaps we can have that talk now, love. It might take your mind off things." Killian shifted his feet from side to side. Emma's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. She shook her head violently and sprang from her seat. David and Mary Margaret only lived a short ways away. It was a small town. She would just walk. Or run. Whichever got her out of there and back to Henry fastest. Running it was.

The look of shock on Killian's face when Emma literally bolted out the door was something that would be imprinted on her brain for some time, Emma was sure. The sound of his footsteps and calls of her name from his lips as she ran towards the road leading to David and Mary Margaret's farm house echoed off the walls of her consciousness. She blocked out the sounds and kept running on autopilot. If she wasn't so focused on Henry, she might have even felt a little nostalgic, running back to her teenage home. The first place that had ever felt like home. Tears burned at her eyes and she swallowed the lump in her throat as the house came into view. Blinking away her foolishness, she drew a heavy set of breaths as she slowed to a stop, doubling over to regroup. Jesus, had she really actually run all the way here? What was wrong with her?

 **~XOXO~**

It had only taken Killian's brain a moment to respond as Emma dashed out of the station like the building was on fire. He expected her to try to avoid talking to him when he brought it up, but for her to actually physically run away _again_? Even he hadn't seen that coming. Maybe he should have. But just as when they were teenagers, where Emma tried to run, metaphorically or literally, Killian couldn't help but follow.

Emma's blonde hair flew behind her like a cape as she ran, the black skirt of her dress swishing about her thighs with her movements. He gave up calling her name after the first block. She hadn't heard him anyways, he knew. But he needed to talk to her and he wouldn't give up that easily. And so he followed, feet pounding pavement that turned into packed earth as he made the turn towards the Nolans' homestead, not really giving it a second thought. There was a time he would have followed her to the end of the world, or time, if she'd have let him, but now his mind was shooting all sorts of warnings for space and danger of being hurt by her again. His heart and body carried on in her wake anyway as if it was the most natural thing to do.

As he came upon the farm house, he saw Emma hunched over catching her breath at the end of the driveway. Twilight had set in so she was only illuminated by the soft electric light coming from the porch and windows. Now was his chance. He walked up behind her and her head popped up at the sound of crunching gravel under his approaching boots. Before she could bolt again, he moved in front of her, schooling his face into a serious expression, to let her know he meant business, but still soft enough that she hopefully wouldn't spook again.

Hope didn't get him very far.

Emma said nothing and swept past him into the house where Mary Margaret was waiting. His blood was near boiling at this point. Hell no she was brushing him off again. Without waiting for an invitation, he stormed into David and Mary Margaret's house after her.

"Henry's upstairs asleep. Are you okay?" He heard Mary Margaret ask Emma softly as he walked into the living room.

"Aye, love, how _are_ you feeling, pray tell?" He asked darkly from behind her. Emma's head snapped around at his voice to find him glowering at her, anger simmering just below the surface. Her own expression turned dark and she ignored them both, heading straight for the stairs. Killian was faster and he stepped in front of her, blocking her path by bracing one arm against the wall and the other on the railing.

"Move." She snarled at him, the first word she had spoken to him since the alley, hot tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She was not about to cry in front of Killian Jones. Not if she could help it.

"Ah, ah, ah, Swan. I believe the words you're looking for are 'Thank you, Killian. I'd love to have a chat with you'." He gave her a cocky smirk that read more to his anger than anything else. Emma's breath was coming in faster draws as her own anger increased.

"Last warning, Jones." She cautioned, eyes blazing with misplaced anger and a hollow sadness.

"Or what? You'll punch me, too?" He scoffed. He was going to rile her up. If this was how he was going to force her to talk to him, then so be it. He'd be damned if she didn't emote _something_. Rage was the easiest to coax from her, he knew from experience.

"If that's what it takes to get you to get the fuck out of my way." She shrugged and resumed her stance. Killian took a step forward and leaned into her space. Emma's breath hitched as the scent of leather, salt, and something spicy and uniquely Killian assaulted her senses but she stood her ground.

"Take your best shot, love. You can't hurt me worse than you already did." He murmured. He could see the moment the heartbreak surfaced in her eyes that he'd only seen directed at him once before, just earlier that day in the alley as a matter of fact. A pang of regret shot through him but he stuffed the emotion down immediately, steeling his resolve. She _was_ going to talk to him. Even if it took him all night. Even if she actually did slug him.

"Guys, Henry is asleep. Can this wait for another time?" Mary Margaret asked quietly from behind them, afraid that this powder keg was going to explode at any moment. Killian's stomach twisted. He didn't want to cause the lad anymore anguish. His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to reluctantly concede, but Emma's voice cut in first.

"No." Emma replied, shocking both Mary Margaret and Killian. "No, he wants to talk? Come on Jones, _let's talk_." She hissed and turned on the ball of her foot, stomping out the door. Killian stood there in shock only for a moment before setting his jaw and following her. She was off the porch and pacing the front yard as he charged up on her, mouth dropping open to dig into everything he wanted to say, but he didnt quite get the chance. Emma was good at that.

"You shouldn't have bailed me out. You shouldn't want to talk to me. I have tried for _years_ to _forget_ you. I thought you would have moved on from this place! What do you want from me?" Emma shouted at him and once again, he found himself taken aback.

"What do I bloody _want_ from you?!" He stood toe to toe with her and shouted back. "First and foremost, I want you to drop the anger charade. You have _no right_ to be angry with me, for any reason. _You_ did this, not me."

"Yep. I did. Classic Emma, fucking shit up. So I'll ask you again, what is it that you want from me?" She met his gaze straight on as the tears finally let loose down her cheeks. His fingers twitched in the fists he had balled at his sides with the urge to wipe them from her face. His left hand burned in protest of the clamped digits but it was the only way he could keep himself from touching her. His two end fingers jutted out in defiance of the motion, unmoving and stiff as a board as they always were.

"I want an explanation! Why? Bloody hell, Swan, I would have done _anything_ for you!" His voice still escalated through the clear quiet night. "You stuck with that Neal bloke after you went to jail for him, you had a child with him, a _life_ with him. Why him and not me? You spent years trying to forget me? I have never been able to get you out of my bloody head! You're always there, haunting me, tormenting me, reminding me I should have done things different, where I went wrong, bloody _hell_. I don't feel sorry for you at all. You chose this. Not me." Killian's chest was heaving as all of the words he'd held inside for seven years came bursting forth. Emma stared at him, mouth agape, utterly stunned at his admissions. She quickly snapped her jaw shut and he watched her green gaze turn steely once more.

"So what, you want to hear why I left?" She snapped.

"Aye, I think I'd like an answer to that, too." He snarked back.

"I left because I was scared of losing you! Everyone in my life that I loved died or left! Everyone except David! When I found out you were being sent to that hellhole, I knew I wouldn't survive losing you. So I pushed you away before I could get hurt again. And I regretted it every single day since then. I was never good enough for you, Killian. You and I both know that. We were kids. I wasn't ready. I stuck through shit with Neal that maybe I shouldn't have but I stayed for Henry and I stayed because I thought I owed it to Neal to try since I fucked everything up with you so spectacularly. I owed it to you to try, but I wasn't strong enough then. I should have been better for you, and I'm fucking sorry it ended like it did. Are you happy?!" She pushed him hard against his chest and sobbed, sucking in breaths and trying to quell her emotions. Killian stood before her in stunned silence. He was so angry with her for such a long time, and now he was angrier because she had been hurting too and he still cared. She had gutted him but he still cared. Listening to her explanation wasn't the closure he had been looking for, it only led to more frustration and confusion.

"Well, are you going to say something?" Emma sobbed out again. Killian was only silent a beat longer.

"You...you bloody maddening, _infuriating_ -" Killian growled and before his brain could complete the thought he rushed forward, cupping Emma's cheeks in his hands and kissed her with every emotion he felt since she walked out on him that day. Emma froze and then pushed him off of her, raising her hand and slapping him across the face. They both stood there, chests heaving, emotion radiating between them, neither saying a word. Killian opened his mouth to apologize but before he could begin, Emma fisted her hand in the front of his shirt and yanked him back in for another searing kiss. She was very good at cutting him off.

Killian acted on impulse, anchoring one hand at her back and the other plunged into her hair. Their tongues slid over one another's, battling for dominance. Killian suddenly felt like his heart had started to beat again for the first time in years. He was awash with the sensation of her soft but demanding lips against his, the silky golden strands wrapped around his fingers, the scent of her strawberry shampoo. He clung to her as if he would float away if he let go, imprinting this moment in his memory forever.

Emma pulled back first, both of them clinging to one another still, drawing ragged breaths. The air around them seemed thicker, making him want to draw nearer to her.

"That was..." Killian whispered, trying and utterly failing to find the words to describe what they had just experienced.

"...A one time thing." Emma murmured, breathless. The words hit him harder than her fist would have. "A mistake." She choked out. Another knife to his gut and he stumbled back from her. "God dammit, Killian." She sobbed, and for the third time that night, Emma ran away from him, back into the safety of the house. Only this time, Killian did not follow.

He needed a drink.

Emma burst back into the house like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Mary Margaret was in the same place she had been when she left. Emma looked around, left to right and back again as if she were almost confused by her surroundings.

"...Emma?" She asked softly and the blonde's only response was to hold up her hand, effectively stifling any further prompting from her sister-in-law. She trudged up the stairs, her legs feeling as if they were filled with cement. Damn Killian Jones. Damn Storybrooke. Damn Graham, damn the Golds, damn Tamara, damn everything to hell.

She crept as quietly as she could into the dark room and her eyes sought out her son's tiny sleeping form in the moonlight. Thoughts of the day faded away as she kicked off her borrowed shoes and curled up next to her son on top of the blankets. She brushed a lock of wayward brown hair from his forehead and the boy sighed deeply in his sleep in response. How could she have let him down like this? She was sure there would be more questions from her son than she had answers for come morning, but for now, just being back by his side made her feel whole again.

The door banged open, the sound reverberating all the way to Emma's room through the thin old walls of her bedroom, followed by David's muffled voice. She could hear panic in his tone and placating responses from Mary Margaret, but she couldn't quite make out what they were saying. She was sure she had worked David into a frenzy by leaving the way she did. She was honestly surprised it took him this long to get home after the display.

"He did WHAT?" David's voice bellowed clearly, followed by heavy footsteps on the steps that seemed to pause halfway up due to more hushed protests from Mary Margaret. Emma squeezed her eyes shut tight as David barked a rebuttal and the footsteps continued all the way up. Her door creaked open and the light from the hallway flooded in making the blackness behind her eyelids a little brighter.

"Emma." David's voice was hushed but dripping with concern. She didn't answer. She couldn't. So she continued to breathe evenly, feigning sleep, hoping he would just go away.

"David, they're sleeping." Mary Margaret hissed at her husband.

"Ems, I know you're not asleep." David insisted, ignoring his wife. "We need to talk about this." Emma continued to ignore him. David released a heavy sigh into the silence.

"David." Mary Margaret all but stamped her foot in exasperation. David huffed again.

"Dammit, Emma. We will talk in the morning." He punctuated the statement by closing the door, the click resounding in the room. Two sets of footfalls continued down the hall and another door shutting sounded out. Emma let herself relax.

"Mommy?"

 _Dammit_.

"Henry, baby, I'm sorry. Go back to sleep." She whispered and stroked the mop of hair back from his forehead repeatedly. She could barely see his profile in the moonlight but she could tell he was fighting going back to sleep.

"Mommy, where did you go? Are you in trouble?" He asked, voice trembling. Emma's heart broke a little more. She blew out a breath into the pillow beneath her head

"I'm sorry I was gone, and I'm sorry you saw all that, Henry. Mommy will be alright." It was all the reassurance she could give her little boy without lying to him outright. Thankfully, he seemed to accept this answer.

"Okay, mommy. I love you." He said sleepily and snuggled into her chest. Emma placed her arm over her son and held him tightly.

"I love you more, Henry. Good night, baby." She closed her eyes and let herself fall into a dreamless sleep.

 **~XOXO~**

Killian found himself back at the bar, haphazardly pushing through the bottles in search of the good rum to burn the taste of Emma Swan from his lips. Emma _Bloody_ Swan. What in _God's_ name had he been thinking when he kissed her? He was so busy keeping all his other emotions in check that he forgot to steel himself physically from her. But it was more than that. It was killing him to watch her cry and hurt. It was the worst timing, but Killian hadn't been known to make the best of decisions since the accident. He should have waited to talk to her. It was just as she'd said, _a mistake_. She was his biggest weakness. He simply had to stay away. That was all. He nodded in affirmation to himself and continued to look for the liquor he sought.

When he finally found his prize, he grabbed the bottle in his right hand and a tumbler in the left, pinching the rim in his "good" fingers on the ruined appendage. His hand still ached from the intensity of his attempt at a fist during their argument.

"Didn't know I paid you to leave in the middle of a shift then come back to drink all my good liquor." A light teasing voice came from behind him and the glass he was carrying slipped from his fingers as he startled.

"Bloody hell." He growled as the glass broke into a thousand pieces on the floor.

"And now you break my glassware." Milah continued to tease. The amusement in her eyes quickly died to concern as he turned to face her. "You look like hell, Killian." She said softly and he scoffed.

"Thanks, Milah. Shouldn't you be home with your husband? You just buried your son today." He hoped the bluntness of his words would push her back. He wanted to be alone tonight. But it appeared his words had the opposite effect as she grabbed the broom and dustpan and made her way to him.

"You know how Robert is." She shrugged. "He's holed up in his study, probably looking up some ancient Mayan ritual to resurrect Neal." Her voice broke slightly over her son's name and Killian softened towards her. He did care for Milah and he should have been more supportive. Instead, he had spent his day being a selfish sodding idiot, hurting himself, Emma, and probably Milah, too, all in the process. He just wanted to forget this day ever happened.

They cleaned the glass together in silence and Milah fetched two more tumblers as Killian emptied the dustpan. She moved to sit next to him at the bar and nudged a glass towards him, keeping the other for herself. Killian poured them both liberal amounts into the glasses and lifted his in silent salute before he let the first drink of his slide down his throat.

"So, it was Emma, huh?" Milah asked quietly and Killian froze at the sound of her name.

"What was Emma?" He swirled the drink around in his glass before tossing the rest of it back and refilling it. Milah hadn't even touched hers.

"She was the one that broke you, wasn't she?" Killian could feel her eyes on him as she made the inquiry but he couldn't quite bring himself to look at her. He instead took another long drink of the rum and ignored the question. He was not about to get into his past right now. Not with Milah. Thankfully, she accepted his silence and set her drink down. She plucked the glass from Killian's hand as well and set it beside hers before laying a hand on his cheek and turning his face towards hers. Gently, she pressed her lips to his. He responded, but his heart wasn't in it. His movements were automatic, almost robotic.

He thought of Emma and what they had before. How ready for the rest of his life he had been. The whole world could have stood against him and he would have fought it if she would have been by his side. He wanted that future back, and he knew he'd never get it. Tears pricked at his eyes and he quickly blinked them away, losing himself in the tug and pull of Milah's lips.

"Milah," he breathed, gathering her into his arms. She blinked her pale blue eyes up at him. "What are we?"

A soft smile flickered over her lips and she kissed him briefly again.

"We are exactly what we both need right now."

That was good enough for the moment, so he kissed her again, intent on losing himself to her and the rum.

He could stand to forget awhile, and so could she.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Super heartbroken over the news about Once being cancelled. Like many of you, I'm not all that surprised, but heartbroken all the same. So, to ease the weight of the end of an era, I come bearing a new chapter! Many, many thanks to my awesome beta kmomof4 who endured my neurotic behavior and comma complexes. Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks for reading!**

Killian groaned as the iPad on his bedside table began the melodic tones of an incoming Facetime call. Hungover didn't even begin to cover how he was feeling. Rolling over and cracking open one bloodshot eye, he saw Liam's grinning face smiling out from his contact photo. His thumb fumbled with the device as he struggled to focus enough to answer. His older brother's slightly pixelated face came into view as Killian situated himself to sitting against the headboard to speak with him.

" _You look like hell, little brother_." Liam's chuckle crackled through his iPad speaker and Killian scowled back.

" _Younger_ brother." He corrected automatically as he always did. "And good morning to you too, Liam."

" _It's nearly five o'clock here. I tried not to call too early, but I see it wouldn't have mattered one way or the other_." Liam lifted an eyebrow in trademark Jones fashion at his brother's state. Killian scrubbed a hand over his face. He needed a shower and a shave. And possibly a head transplant.

"If you've called to lecture me, brother, you can save your breath. I'll be kicking me own arse in a moment. And throwing out all the rum in my possession." He shot back wryly. He thanked whatever God that was listening that he had had the good sense the night before to leave a water bottle on his nightstand. He took a larger than normal swig from it trying to erase the taste of alcohol and bile from his tongue.

" _You and I both know that's a lie_." Liam replied, amused.

"Aye, but the thought did cross my mind for a moment." His lips twisted in a sarcastic smirk. "But I assume you called for a reason?"

" _That I did, brother. I'm coming back to Maine. For good. I've officially discharged and I miss my little brother_." Liam grinned. Killian sat up straighter and he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his own face. Since Liam had been reassigned back to England, he had only seen him four times in person. Two of those times had been...less than pleasant.

"Bloody hell, that's wonderful news!" Killian enthused. With everything going on in this crazy little town, he felt like he needed his brother's guidance more than ever.

" _Are you sure you'll be happy with me back around breathing down your neck?_ " Liam teased and Killian's expression sobered.

"More than you know," he answered honestly, rubbing the back of his neck. The silence stretched between them for a moment and he could feel Liam's scrutinizing gaze through the screen.

" _Brother, what's going on?_ " Liam asked, breaking the void. Killian blew out a long held breath on a hum.

"Nothing, Liam. I'm fine." He found himself repeating that phrase more often than he would like. He wasn't even sure why. No one believed him anyways, least of all himself.

" _That's a load of bollocks if I've ever heard one. Come on, out with it,_ " Liam demanded and Killian shook his head.

"Uhh, well, Emma is back in town. I...haven't handled it well," he admitted. Liam immediately sobered. His jaw was set in a firm line.

" _Well. I hope she's left you alone. You don't need to be wallowing in old hurts,_ " Liam said tersely. He knew first hand how Killian reacted once discharged from the navy. One of the only times he had seen his brother after he left was when Killian was freshly discharged, left a broken man with a broken soul. Another came less than a year later when he hadn't been seen in days and David called Liam. Liam had, of course, flown out right away and pulled him bodily out of the abandoned cabin in the woods where he had been attempting to drown the world around him in rum, clinging to a picture of him and Emma in happier times like it was his lifeline. It was safe to say Liam was not a fan of Emma Swan.

"It's a small town, Liam. I'm bound to run into her sooner or later," he muttered. Liam paused.

" _What have you done, Killian?_ " Liam asked, face furrowing in concern and even worse, _disappointment_.

"Why do you assume I've done something?" Killian shot back, knowing full well he had, in fact, already gotten back in over his head with her. And it had scarcely been a day since he saw her again.

" _You forget I know you, brother,_ " Liam said flatly. He huffed. " _Whether or not you tell me now, Killian, I just hope you're not headed down that path again. She's no good for you._ "

"Liam," he growled, still not being able to stand his brother's jabs at Emma's character. Liam held up his hand in appeasement.

" _At any rate, little brother, I've only a few things to wrap up in London. I'll be stateside by the beginning of next month,_ " Liam changed the subject back fluidly. Killian's eyes widened in surprise.

"That's...soon..." Killian responded. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? You must have known this was coming for months."

" _I wanted it to be a surprise,_ " Liam shrugged. " _So clean out your guest bedroom, I'll need a place to rest my head for a bit,_ " he grinned. Killian couldn't help but smile back.

"I suppose I could spare a corner and a blanket..." he teased.

" _Oi! You'll put me up and you'll be grateful for my company, you git,_ " Liam chuckled. " _I've got to run, though. Talk to you soon, brother._ "

"Aye, soon." Killian ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

" _And Killian?_ " Killian's head popped back up at the sound of his name. " _I love you. I hope you know that. I only want what's best for you._ " His ocean blue eyes shone back at their twins through the screen. Killian nodded.

"Love you, too, Liam. See you soon." The screen went blank and Killian let out another heavy sigh. He needed to get this whole Emma thing under control before his brother returned.

His whole body protested as he reached to set the iPad and water back on the bedside table. Head swimming, he hoisted himself out of the tangled sheets with a groan. He smelled like rum and sweat. A shower would do him a world of good right about now. A shower, and then a shit ton of coffee. He could skip the shave today. He wished he could just skip the whole day in general. The clock blinked back at him, 10:07 leering bright and red, and he groaned. Only two hours until he had to be at the Golden Harp.

His bare feet carried him on autopilot to the bathroom, thoughts storming in his head as he slipped off his black boxer briefs and stepped into the warm stream of water in the shower. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe he should have just stayed as far away from Emma Swan as possible. But, sucker for pain that he apparently was, he had been helpless to keep his distance. His emotions had gotten the better of him and something unexpected had happened. He was a sodding fool for kissing her like that, but then she had kissed him back and he'd by lying if an ember of _something_ hadn't been ignited in the pit of his gut. Dammit! He banged his already tender head against the tile of the shower wall. Fucking hopeful sap. Unfortunately, the rest of his body hadn't caught up to his resistance to the idea of Emma's lips on his and he felt his manhood twitch at the memory. He scowled and cranked the knob for the cold water up all the way.

 **~XOXO~**

Emma rolled over and reached out her arm for Henry's small body, but came up empty. She popped her head up and looked around through the daylight, the soft sounds of conversation and Henry's laughter floating up through the floorboards. Stretching out, the material of the dress she was still wearing scratched over her body. It was time to get up. She had a mess of a life to salvage.

She rose from the bed, the old mattress groaning in her wake and she wondered how Henry had sneaked out of the room without her noticing. Her brave boy. She should have handled everything better. Hell, she should have handled _anything_ better. All of it, the funeral, Tamara, _Killian_ , every bit of it had gone just about as wrong as it could have. Such was the progress of her life. It seemed highly unlikely that she would ever be capable of making a right choice for herself. Well, that was going to change. Starting with getting out of the funeral dress she still wore. Settling on a white tank top, form fitting jeans, knee high boots, topped off with her signature red leather jacket, she marched her way out the bedroom door and down the stairs.

The sight that awaited Emma in the kitchen was so painfully domestic it made her heart lurch. David sat at the head of the large wooden table reading the sports section of the Daily Mirror, Storybrooke's local newspaper, as he sipped at a coffee mug with the words "Prince Charming" emblazoned on the side. Henry was perched on the counter, happily munching on a handful of chocolate chips, as Mary Margaret, donning a lace trimmed floral apron, mixed together the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes. Emma's boots squeaked against the linoleum floor as she stopped in the doorway and she grit her teeth against the inevitable interrogation she knew she was about to receive as soon as her brother and sister-in-law's heads turned towards the sound.

"Mommy! Auntie is making pancakes!" Henry grinned as he popped more candy pieces into his already chocolate smeared mouth. Mary Margaret gave a sheepish smile and reached up to wipe Henry's mouth with the corner of her apron.

"Good morning, Emma!" she chirped, scrubbing at the wriggling boy's cheek. "You look nice. Going somewhere?"

"Yes, Emma, going somewhere?" David parroted, voice colored with an incredulous edge.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to see if you could keep Henry while I ran a few errands." Emma stepped around the counter to press a kiss to Henry's now clean cheek and shooting David a glare over the top of his head.

"Emma-" David began warningly.

"We'd love to!" Mary Margaret cut in, giving a disapproving glance at her husband whose mouth fell open in response. He shook his head sharply and recovered, eyes snapping back to Emma and setting his jaw.

"Emma. We should talk about yesterday," he said, ignoring his wife's huffing.

"Nothing to talk about, David," Emma answered flippantly, not meeting his gaze but feeling it follow her every movement as she made her way across the room and picked up her keys from the hook near the door. She knew he wouldn't push the envelope any further in front of Henry. "I'll be back in a bit, Henry. Be good. I love you."

"Love you, Mommy!" Henry's sweet voice carried to her and she focused the last of her attentions on giving him a smile before slipping out the door.

Emma set her shoulders and continued to her car, determined. First stop, the bank. Then to face down her demons. And to repay her debts. Thankfully, in this case, they were one in the same.

After a brief stop to make a withdrawal at the bank, and a very awkward encounter with a teller that reminded her of Bashful the dwarf (he blushed furiously every time Emma talked to him), she found herself tapping a plain white envelope against her palm while sitting in front of the Golden Harp. Nervous butterflies erupted in her stomach and she chewed on her bottom lip fervently. She wasn't sure how Killian was going to react to seeing her. She shouldn't have kissed him, but, dammit, he kissed her first. And her body had reacted, first with anger, then falling back into familiarity at a speed that left her terrified and a little unsettled. But she was in charge here, and she wasn't some wilting damsel swooning over the return of her long lost love. Life wasn't a romance novel and she sure as shit wasn't about to wait around and let these _feelings_ fester. There would be no entertaining any kind of notion that kissing Killian Jones was anything other than a primal physical response. And after today, they would be square (well maybe not, his name _was_ still on her bail papers), square _enough_ , and they could be civil adults who occasionally saw each other on the street. Nodding to herself, she got out of the car and entered the building.

"Hey! We don't want no trouble, here." Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby's teasing as she walked into the large barroom, the brunette's wolfish grin belying the ferocity of her words. She came out from around the counter and wrapped Emma in a tight hug that the blonde happily returned.

"How you holding up, Em?" Ruby asked softly. Emma gave a tight smile, bobbing her head as she pulled out of the embrace.

"I'm okay. I'm really sorry about everything yesterday." Ruby waved her hand at the apology, apple red painted nails cutting off any further comment.

"Don't worry about it, girl. I get it. I'd have probably done the same." She moved back behind the counter with a wink and flopped her elbows down on it. "So what can I get ya?"

"Actually, is Killian around?" Emma asked, forced nonchalance clear in her tone. Ruby's hazel eyes widened in surprise briefly and then crinkled as her smile turned salacious.

"Oooh, Killian," she singsonged, causing Emma to roll her eyes again. "So is that like a thing again?" Emma felt the heat creep up her chest.

"What? Pssh. No," she sputtered and Ruby grinned wider.

"Riiight." She reached out and patted Emma's hand with an exaggerated nod and pout. "He's actually in the back. Let me go grab him." Ruby flounced to the back in a swirl of brown and crimson hair. Emma sat herself at a barstool and released a heavy sigh, willing her nerves to settle. She didn't get much of a reprieve.

"Swan?"

Killian's head poked out from the kitchen, all blue eyes, scruff, and dark disheveled hair, before the rest of him followed. He was wiping his hands on a towel and his expressive brows were bent in confusion.

"Uh, hey." Emma stood and shuffled back and forth on her feet.

He could tell she was grappling with confidence, white envelope clenched tightly in her hands.

"You...wanted to see me?" He chuckled. Her eyes flitted up from the spot on the counter that had held her attention so steadfastly just a moment before to meet his gaze. He could read the apprehension all over her jade green orbs.

"Mm." She stifled a nervous giggle. "I just wanted to...apologize...for, well, everything..." She spoke haltingly and Killian couldn't suppress the smirk that spread over his cheeks if he had tried. Which he didn't. Apologies had never been easy for Emma Swan, a sign of defeat in her hardheaded eyes. All at once, he got a glimpse of the girl he knew, the girl he had been so in love with, and it stole his breath. Only for a moment.

When Emma caught sight of the soft, teasing smile, half covered by Killian's thumb as he rubbed his chin, she felt a wave of indignation come over her. She had the sudden urge to stamp her foot at his teasing and when his eyebrow shot up and an exasperated "ugh!" popped out of her mouth, she knew her body had betrayed her by acting on it. Killian chuckled just a little and she felt her sudden ire ebb.

"This isn't easy for me either, you know. Being back here, seeing all the people I left behind, seeing you..." she trailed off and Killian's smile dissolved into something softer. He never wanted her to feel like she was unwelcome.

"Um, here." She shoved forward the white envelope and he took it, eyes never leaving her form. He broke his gaze and looked down to the envelope, opening it and looking inside. His eyes immediately snapped back up to hers and she smiled sheepishly.

"It's all there, the, uh, bail money. Twenty five hundred dollars. I wanted to pay you back and say thank you," she said.

"Swan, I never intended for you to repay me-" he began.

"It's fine. I can afford it." She held up a hand to stop the extension of the envelope back in her direction.

"You should use this money for you and-" he tried again.

"I can afford it," she reiterated, pushing the money back to him. He shook his head, mouth opening and closing, searching for a compelling argument.

"You look like a fish." She giggled. His eyes lit up at the sound before smiling again and waving the envelope at her, putting it pointedly in his vest for safe keeping.

"Despite everything, it's good to see you, Swan," Killian offered sincerely. Emma smiled back softly at that.

"You, too, Killian." She sighed.

"Remember, we were friends before anything else. There's no reason we couldn't be again." He leaned forward on the counter and her smile turned wry. It took a beat before she responded.

"If I recall correctly, before anything else, I hated your flirty guts," she teased with a lightness she wasn't quite sure she felt just yet. A twinkle appeared in his eye and the tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his smile.

"You never hated me, darling," he teased back. Emma's brow lifted.

"Perhaps not," she murmured and his heartbeat stuttered. "See you around, Jones." She turned, all blonde hair and red leather, making her way to the door.

"See you around, love." The only indication that she had heard him was the slight stumble in her footsteps as the endearment tumbled from his lips. And then she was gone, disappearing into the sunlight.

Emma's heart was pounding as she made her way back into the outdoors. It was a common nickname he'd used before, but now it held weight she didn't know she could bear right now.

"A return to the scene of the crime?"

Emma stopped dead in her tracks and scowled at Graham who was leaning smugly against her car.

"I was just leaving but I seem to have a particularly annoying boot on my car." She snarked, crossing her arms impatiently.

"Woah, there. I come in peace." He held up his right hand and pushed himself upright with his left. "And also bearing gifts." He reached into his jacket and produced an envelope. It was a day for stationary, it seemed. The script detailing her name seemed far more feminine than Graham might write, but she accepted it all the same, opening it and pulling the letter from inside. As she read, slow realization crept up on her.

If Emma's heart was hammering before, it more resembled a battering ram now.

 _Emma,_ _I hope you're doing okay. I know that's strange coming from me. I'm sorry I pressed charges on you. I was angry, and hurt, but I know when to accept my faults as well. I probably deserved that punch and more. You had just lost Neal, too, and even though you weren't in love with each other anymore didn't mean you didn't love him still. You were dealing with a child who had just lost his father. Emotions ran high, and I was selfish, so I want you to know that I understand. But I was selfish for good reason._ _I loved him, too, Emma. I know that's hard to hear and it may not be perfect timing, but it's true. I loved him and I didn't realize it until it was too late. So I came to get some kind of closure, I guess. I'm sorry it all ended like it did. I never meant to upset you. I just wanted to grieve a little too. I'm not trying to peddle my sob story, or make you feel guilty. I'm telling you this because I know you'll understand now that we've had time to settle down. I know I've thought a lot about it. And I know now that the right thing to do is drop the charges against you. You're hurting like I am and I won't take another parent from your boy._ _I hope you find your happiness, Emma. Don't wait until it's too late like I did. I'm on my way back to New York. I don't expect I'll be seeing you again, so I'll end this letter with a goodbye._ _All the best,_ _Tamara Johnson_

Emma gaped down at the page, not quite believing what she was seeing. She looked up to Graham for confirmation and found him smiling softly at her.

"Charges are dropped, Emma. You're all clear." He smiled and handed her more papers stating her charges were now dropped. Emma's trembling fingers flipped between the papers, reading and rereading the words. "Came just in time, too, since I'm leaving this week. With David being the frontrunner as my replacement, it might be awkward to have to be your own sister's jailor." He teased but Emma was shellshocked for the second time since seeing Graham.

"Wait, you're leaving? Why? Where?" Emma asked, papers now forgotten, tucked under her arm. Graham chuckled.

"Got a job offer with the FBI. Entry level agent, but I have the potential to head up my own team in a few years." He grinned wider, puffing out his chest in pride. Emma couldn't help but smile herself.

"Graham, that's amazing. I'm really, really happy for you." She squeezed his arm and he stepped up on the curb.

"Thanks. You know, once I'm gone and David becomes sheriff-"

"Can you even say that in speculation?" Emma grinned and Graham continued with a smile of his own.

" _When_ David becomes sheriff, we will need another deputy. Is it true you were doing bail bonds work in the city?" He asked and Emma arched an eyebrow.

"I forgot how word travels in a small town." She shook her head, blonde mane swinging around her shoulders.

"Welcome back to Storybrooke," Graham replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I did, though. Can't say I miss it much," she said pointedly.

"Aye, but it looks great on a resume for a deputy's position in a sleepy little town where the most exciting thing most days is putting Leroy in the drunk tank." He mirrored her lifted brow and leaned in with a wink. Emma sighed. She _did_ need a job...

"Graham, you literally just arrested me," she countered.

"The charges were dropped." He shrugged. Emma made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat.

"So, you want me to work at a place where my brother will be my boss. My overprotective brother who wants to punch anyone who sneezes in my direction?" she ribbed and Graham scoffed.

"He's not that bad."

"He almost punched you for arresting me. And you're his boss." Her eyebrow lifted even higher, challenging him.

"Alright, alright." Graham laughed heartily. "He's a mite bit overprotective. But think of it this way. The more he sees you during the day, the more private your private time will actually be."

Emma pondered this for a minute.

"Alright, Humbert. You're a helluva negotiator. I'm in." Emma held out her hand and Graham shook it earnestly.

"Follow me down to the station, we can fill out the paperwork." He made his way back over to his cruiser and Emma started up the bug. After a short drive, she pulled into the parking space in front of the station and followed Graham inside. As soon as David saw Graham and Emma round the corner, he stood up, concern etched over his features.

"Emma? Everything okay?" He turned and pointed at Graham with a clenched jaw. "You said her charges were dropped."

"Okay, yeah." Graham raised an appraising brow at David before turning back to Emma. "I get the overprotective thing now." Emma smirked and David bristled.

"Stand down, David. I'm here because Graham offered me a job." Emma patted her brother on the shoulder, watching his face go from briefly surprised to confused before moving towards Graham's office behind him.

"Wait, what?" David finally remembered his feet and trotted up after the pair. "A job? Here?"

"Yes. I think Emma will fit in quite nicely and fill that absence we will have shortly, since as of now you're running unopposed," Graham replied, shuffling through the filing cabinet for the appropriate paperwork as Emma took a seat. David's hands were fused to his hips and his lips were trying to work out some indecipherable word.

"Pssh, like anyone could compete with Sheriff Charming." Emma held her hands up as if framing the nickname in lights on Broadway. Graham chuckled and David's mouth snapped closed, his arms moving from his hips to folded over his chest.

"Well. I'm glad to see this was discussed with me first," he grumbled.

"It literally just happened, _Dad_." Emma rolled her eyes. "And think of it as one more way you can keep an eye on your wayward foster sister."

"Emma," David reprimanded. "You know I hate that you call yourself that."

"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm your _real sister_ , whether I like it or not." She smiled fondly and David's face softened. He blew out a long breath.

"I suppose it would give us more time together. And I'd be able to boss you around." He winked.

"Like you don't try already," she scoffed.

"Yeah, but now you'd _have_ to listen," David replied, reaching over to ruffle her hair. Emma swatted him away laughing.

"Okay, then," Graham interrupted, slapping the required paperwork in front of Emma. She eagerly leaned forward in search of a pen. "We all good?" Emma nodded, beginning to print her information down.

"Yep. Welcome aboard, Em. And we still need to talk about yesterday." He pointed at her and she made a face and waved him away.

As soon as she filled out the paperwork and did a brief interview ("It's more of a formality than anything," Graham assured her), he gave her a tour of the station, not that there was much to tour, and not that she wasn't unfortunately familiar with the layout anyways. One large room that contained filing cabinets and desks with archaic computers atop them, and right in the same room were the two holding cells. Graham's office and the interrogation room right next to it were the only two rooms with a door in the station.

"And this strapping chap is Robin Locksley. He's our other deputy." Graham clapped his hand on the shoulder of a bright eyed man with sandy brown hair sitting at a desk across from David's.

"Ah, so this is David's infamous little sister." Robin leaned back in his chair and Emma's eyes couldn't seem to _stop_ rolling since she came into the building. "Lovely to meet you." He extended his hand.

"Likewise." She shook his proffered limb. "I'll try to make your job a little easier. But I make no promises." Robin's polite smile turned into something more genuine. David snorted and Emma shot him a glare.

"This...isn't going to turn into a glorified babysitting endeavor...is it?" Robin glanced between the siblings and Emma's head snapped back to face Robin, indignation crackling in her eyes.

"Nah. You'll be more like a...bodyguard," David joked and Emma huffed.

"Oh, I can't wait to run circles around you two." She leaned foward with a cat-like grin. "I've run down a 6 foot 2 perp twelve New York City blocks in heels and brought him in successfully. What do you guys got?"

"I can't say that I've ever run in heels, darling," Robin replied, mock pensively.

"Alright, I can tell you will all be getting on like a house on fire," Graham cut in. "Emma let's get you suited up."

"Wait, what?" Emma asked and Graham smirked at her over his shoulder, motioning between herself and David.

"I'm beginning to see the familial connection." He turned back around and Emma stalked after him.

"Can't I just wear a badge and a gun? They say the same thing, don't they?" she bargained.

"Sorry, Emma. Standard issue." Graham suppressed another smile as he dropped a pile of lifeless brown clothing in her arms. Emma's nose wrinkled. "You'll get used to it."

"Doubtful," she complained but dutifully tucked the uniform under her arm with her manila envelope full of the day's paperwork.

"We'll have all the fun accessories waiting for you on Monday morning. Fear not." He patted her lightly on the back and she followed him once again into the main room where Robin and David were getting ready to head out on patrol. David thumbed his belt loops as they made their way towards him.

"I'm gonna get back to Henry," Emma said to him, shuffling the items in her arms. "I need to line up daycare and everything for him before I start on Monday."

"Oh, Ashley runs a nice little group here in town. Ask Mary Margaret for her number, she should have it somewhere," David replied and Emma nodded.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at home then, and then you two on Monday." She nodded to Graham and Robin who both returned the sentiment before she headed out the door, feeling much lighter than she did when she started the day.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello! It's been a minute since I've updated this, and anything really. If you read Persecuted, you'll already know that I've been having a lot of personal life struggles this year so far and so it kinda gets in the way of things. Nevertheless, thank you thank you thank you to all of you still reading. I really hope you guys like this chapter and it is a little longer than usual. A huge thanks to my fantabulous beta kmomof4 who is just the very best. And now, on with the show...**

It turned out that small town policing was exactly as Emma expected it to be. People waved and smiled when she was out on patrol. She spent a lot of time enforcing city ordinances, rather than hunting down criminals. She broke up a single bar fight that resulted in Mary Margaret's Uncle Leroy spending the evening in a jail cell, only to be released the next day with a promise to behave. She was greeted by name when people saw her on the street or in a store. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Her first week was an overall success.

But unfortunately, policing a small town also meant dealing with the small town gossip. Lord, she'd almost forgotten.

Spending her teenage years as one of the only foster children in the entire town of Storybrooke, she had learned very quickly how to let rumors and whispers roll off her back. When she left for New York with Neal, she had gained a level of anonymity that was refreshing after spending so long with everyone's nose in her business. She was invisible, but in a good way. She had gotten a little too comfortable with it, apparently. Even though she was aware of the constant scrutiny she was subject to since her return to town and subsequent arrest, even she didn't see what happened that Friday coming.

Emma walked in the front door of the station that morning, armed with a coffee cup filled to the brim with no less than three shots of espresso added and more snickerdoodle creamer than any person should consume in a single cup in one hand and a half-eaten bearclaw in the other, and made her way towards the low voices coming from the bullpen. She rounded the corner to find David, Robin, and Graham huddled around David's desk. David's back was to her and Graham was bent over something on the desk, so Robin spotted her first. His eyes widened and he hit David in the ribs. Emma's brother looked up sharply at Robin who darted his eyes to where she stopped in the doorway and back to him. David looked back and saw her and his eyes mirrored Robin's when he had first spotted her. Behind him, Graham was trying and failing to discreetly shove something into David's desk drawer. As the scene unfolded before her, Emma felt her left eyebrow creep up her forehead and an awkward open-mouthed grin spread over her cheeks.

"What's going on, guys?" Emma asked, false, uncomfortable smile on her face. The three men broke out in forced grins of their own, David's tighter than the rest. His face was smiling, but his eyes looked murderous. It made him look slightly psychotic.

"What's up, Em? You're early," David said, moving towards her, trying to head her away from his desk and presumably whatever Graham stuffed into that drawer.

"I'm actually a little late, and you didn't answer my question." Emma arched a brow at her brother.

"Bah, guy stuff..." he said with a little too much dismissal. Emma hummed a reply, setting her breakfast and jacket down at her own desk.

David hovered.

Robin and Graham stared.

Emma growled and stomped towards David's desk, to which Graham and Robin responded by forming a human wall in front of it.

"You can move or I can go around you. Either way I'm getting in the drawer," she said in a no-nonsense voice. Robin and Graham exchanged a look and glanced back at David who looked like he could kill something, before blowing out a sigh and throwing the hand that wasn't braced on his hip in the air in permission to move aside. The two men parted like the Red Sea, each taking a large step away from one another and Emma opened the drawer. A newspaper was stuffed inside. The headline made her roll her eyes.

" **CONVICT TO CONSTABLE: EMMA SWAN JOINS STORYBROOKE LAW FORCE** "

"Okay, we all knew that I might face some backlash for the... funeral incident..." she trailed off as she continued to read.

 _Emma Swan returned to town with a bang, gaining a highly sought after position with the sheriff's department, but not before her own brush with the wrong side of the law._

 _The 25-year-old former New York City bondsperson was charged with assaulting a young woman inside of the Golden Harp Tavern last week while attending a funeral with the victim. While those charges were later dropped, for unknown reasons, this was not Swan's first time behind bars._

 _Before her explosive return to our sleepy little hamlet, Swan had already had a criminal past, one which our departing Sheriff Graham Humbert seems to have overlooked when hiring her. Sources say that Swan was facing upwards of a year's sentence in a New York City detention facility for misdemeanor theft charges, reduced down from larceny charges after the testimony of an upstanding citizen, but her sentence was reduced to community service..._

Emma stuffed the newspaper violently into the trash can behind her, the lid popping off in the process. She slammed it back into place and stomped off towards the bathrooms, David calling her name in her wake.

The door shut soundly behind her and she locked it, sitting herself on the toilet and sinking her head into her hands.

 _How_ had they gotten hold of that information? She completed her time, her records were sealed and expunged. It had been a mistake. When they first got to the city, for the first couple months at least, she and Neal were living out of their car, subsisting on pilfered Twinkies and showering in motel rooms that the occupants had checked out of but before they could be cleaned. They were young, both running from their suffocating pasts, they didn't know how expensive the city was going to be. One last score, that's all it was supposed to be. Neal had turned her over when he was discovered, but he had been repentant for it, he came back for her. He was young and dumb, too. She chose to stay, chose to take the blame. She had faced justice, she had served her sentence, it was a mistake she had paid for. She hadn't done anything like that since.

Why had she even come back here? She should have just stayed in New York. But she didn't have any friends there, she worked alone, she lived alone with Henry, she had only had Neal and Henry there. And it seemed like there was only the void Neal left behind there for her when he died. She wanted to come back to the one place she could remember feeling loved and wanted. But her poor life decisions with Neal, and even before that with Killian, had made her bed. The move depleted her savings, so she had no choice but to lie in it. And she couldn't uproot Henry again.

A soft knock sounded at the door, wrenching her from her panicked thoughts. What the hell was she going to say to them? And _God_ , David. Ever her protector, fighting all her battles for her like he could save her from everything. If that newspaper had a face, he would have punched it. Hell, he still might punch the reporter. Or the editor. Whoever published it.

The knock sounded again, but this time was accompanied by a voice that was definitely _not_ any of the guys.

"Emma, honey?" Mary Margaret's soft voice came through the wood. David must have called her to help. Well, great.

"Be right out," she said gruffly, pulling her phone from her pocket and checking the time. She was astonished to find over an hour had passed. She scrubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes before standing with a sigh and unlocking the door.

"Oh, Emma."

Emma wanted to slam the door back in her sister-in-law's face at the sound of pity in her voice. Instead, she just ducked her head and studied a suddenly very interesting crack in the tile on the floor. The next thing she knew, small but strong arms wrapped around her middle, effectively pinning her arms to her sides.

"It's okay, Emma. David is already on the phone with the Mirror office and he's getting it taken care of." Emma stiffened at Mary Margaret's words.

"I'm fine. I just needed a second to... process..." Emma mumbled and tried to pull away, but the smaller woman just bustled her into the embrace tighter.

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret said on a sigh. This time Emma did pull herself from her grip. She didn't want to be pitied. She just wanted to be left alone. Alone was something she understood. Invisible was something she was good at. When she was in focus, usually it wasn't a good thing. And Storybrooke felt like being under a microscope.

"I'm fine," Emma insisted, sidestepping her bleeding heart sister-in-law and making her way back into the bullpen. Robin was not there anymore, but David was on the phone at his desk and Graham was in his office. She marched past David and straight into her boss's domain. Graham looked up at her entry, his eyes sympathetic and warm.

"I'm going out on patrol, did you need anything before I go?" Emma asked without the pretext of a greeting.

"No, you're not, Emma. You're going home," Graham replied and Emma's heart slammed to a stop in her chest.

"Graham, please don't fire me. I messed up once a really long time ago, and I'm a damn good worker. You know this. That's why you hired me. And I really need this job, Graham, I _like_ this job, just please-" Emma babbled before Graham cut her off.

"Emma! Emma! Hold on a second! I'm not firing you, calm down!"

Emma blinked her big green eyes at him twice, absorbing his words.

"You're... not?" Emma asked.

"No," he chuckled out. "I'm telling you to go home because this has been a very upsetting day for you. For all of us. Paid, of course." Graham smiled and leaned forward on his desk.

"I'm not a charity case," Emma snapped. "Why would you pay me if I haven't worked?"

"Take it out of your sick days, then. Either way, you're going home." Graham's face was stern, his tone brokered no arguments. Emma huffed in defeat.

"I'll put in for a sick day, I guess," she relented and Graham smiled.

"Good. See you Monday. David is on call this weekend," he told her and with a brisk nod, Emma left his office.

She made her way over to the desk where her abandoned breakfast still sat. Mary Margaret sat waiting in front of the desk, spinning in half circles in her chair. David slammed the phone back on the receiver, making the two women jump slightly.

"I have to go down there. They're being... difficult..." David said, scrubbing a hand over his face. David was a hard person to say no to, especially in person. He could turn on the charm at a drop of a hat and usually got everything he wanted. If the charm didn't work, then, well...

"David." Mary Margaret's voice carried an unspoken warning, to which her husband held a hand up in appeasement.

"I know. I'll be civil."

"Well, Graham sent me home, so I'm free to go with you," Emma cut in.

"No. I don't want you anywhere near this. And before you object," he cut off the sentence Emma opened her mouth to say, "You know that if you show up there demanding they take it down, it will cause a bigger ruckus. Just, please, let me handle this for once, Em."

Emma softened slightly at her brother's expression. He was as upset over this as she was. She turned to Mary Margaret and instead of feeling the pity she'd felt before, she recognized the sentiment for what it was. A quiet anger on her behalf and sympathy. She felt a wave of love for her family in that moment. It was hard to remember that she wasn't alone, even to this day.

"Alright," she said softly, struggling with relinquishing control even still. David brightened at that and reached out, pulling Emma into a tight hug, cradling her head like he had since she was a kid. She hugged him in return and felt two smaller arms wrap around from her back, Mary Margaret fitting into the hug seamlessly. As they pulled away from one another, tears shone brightly in her sister-in-law's fierce green eyes.

"Well," she said, wiping her eyes, "since you have time today and a free weekend ahead of you, what do you say to a little bit of shopping and a girls night? I can call Ruby!"

Mary Margaret looked at her with such hope in her eyes that Emma couldn't tell her no.

~ **XOXO** ~

"Bloody _hell_!"

Killian swore loudly, having stubbed his toe on the way to answer the booming knock at the door. He glanced at the clock on the wall as he passed. 6:13 pm. He was early. Even though he had spent the last two weeks getting ready for his brother's arrival (and thinking about how to resume his friendship with Emma, but that was no one's business but his own), he still was anxious about seeing him again.

Killian limped to the door and flung it open to reveal the tall, burly man on the other side, blue eyes twinkling.

"Little brother!" Liam exclaimed and seized Killian immediately in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides and lifting him from the ground.

"Bloody hell, Liam, _younger_ brother. And you're early," he accused with a broad smile as Liam set him on his feet again with a grin of his own. He set both of his large hands on Killian's shoulders and sighed.

"Aye, younger brother, I know," he conceded. "Gods, Killian, it is fantastic to see you." He clapped him firmly on the shoulder and Killian couldn't help but pull him back into a hug. He didn't realize how much he had actually missed his older brother until he was standing right in front of him. When he felt a lump rise in his throat, he pulled away, because he would never hear the end of it if he cried about this. Brothers.

"Well, let's get your things inside, then, and we'll go have a pint. Celebrate." Killian gestured to the bags waiting behind his brother in the hallway.

"Now _that_ is a good plan," Liam said and moved back to pick up a duffle and a suitcase. Killian picked the remaining two suitcases and pulled them inside, frowning.

"Is this everything?" he questioned. His brother was a minimalist, but this seemed light, even for him. And then he had all of their mother's things...

Alice Jones died when Killian was two and Liam was nine. Before that, she had been a devoted wife and mother, right up until she had gotten sick. The cancer was unexpected and took her more quickly than any of them suspected. Their father, Brennan, had not dealt with it well. He soon lost himself to drinking and gambling and frequently found himself on the wrong side of the law. When Liam was fifteen and Killian eight, the law caught up with Brennan and he was shipped off to prison. The brothers were placed into a group home until Liam was seventeen and was able to emancipate and join the military, gaining custody of Killian as well. They didn't often speak of Brennan, as the man never bothered to keep contact with his sons, even after his release from prison, but Alice's memory was always kept fondly, especially through Liam. Killian, being little more than a babe when she'd passed, only had one fleeting memory of her for himself, though. Blonde hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin, she almost looked like a doll. Killian remembered her reading to him, Peter Pan. His lifelong obsession with Captain Hook and all things pirate stemmed from there, he figured. The book was still safely tucked into his nightstand drawer. But everything else...

"Not to worry, Killian," Liam replied, dropping his bags heavily onto the floor of the guest room. "I have mum's things in storage until I can have them and a few other things shipped here. I'd like to be a bit more settled before that happens."

Killian nodded, relaxing, and helped his brother move into the spare bedroom. Liam tugged on the taut, smooth bedding with a grin.

"Nice corners, sailor," he said, amused with the military precision his brother had executed over the linens.

"Habit." Killian shrugged.

"Fair enough," Liam laughed. "Now about that pint..."

"Aye, you git, come on with you." Killian clapped his brother on the shoulder and they left the apartment together.

It wasn't too terribly far for the brothers to make their way to the Rabbit Hole, so they made the journey on foot, laughing and catching up with one another on the way. Milah had covered his shift that night as it was Ruby's night off and she knew his brother was arriving. He didn't want to chance taking his brother to the Golden Harp while his married lover was there, just in case one of them slipped up. Liam was a big proponent of all things done in "good form"; he just wouldn't understand. So, they found themselves at a table in the rowdier establishment, Liam on his second beer, Killian on his fifth.

"Slow down, little brother, the night is young!" Liam chided, taking a pull from his glass.

"It's _younger_ , Liam. And what's the matter? Can't keep up, old man?" Killian grinned, his voice starting to rasp a bit. He was beginning to feel the alcohol in his veins, and it comforted him, as it often did these days.

"Of course I can," Liam proclaimed.

"But if I'm off me arse as well, who's going to drag the both of us back to that cracker box you live in?"

Killian huffed at that. His apartment suited him just fine. He'd once had a house. A house he rented right when he joined the service. A house he'd hoped to move Emma into and start their lives in. A house with a kitchen where she'd left his heart shattered on the floor. His mood darkened slightly at the memory.

"Oh, bloody hell."

Killian's head popped up at his brother's irritated tone and followed his gaze to the door. His heart stopped for a moment as the woman with either the best or worst timing in the world strolled through the door with Ruby and Mary Margaret.

From across the room, their eyes locked with one another and he felt immediately lighter, as if her presence was a balm on his scarred soul, even if she had contributed to some of the deepest wounds there. He offered her a smile which she returned with a soft smile of her own before turning back to her companions.

"You're joking, right?" Liam asked, disbelief lacing his tone.

"Hmm?" Killian tore his eyes from the blonde as they found a table and back to his brother. His own mood sobered at the sight of his brother's reproachful expression. "What?" he asked, not understanding.

"Do not go down that path, Killian. She will hurt you again, and I don't want to pick up the pieces. I don't want to see you go through that again." Liam always had a particular way of making him feel like a child. It was mostly due to the fact that he was the closest thing he had had to a father for most of his life, but as an almost 26 year old man, it irked him.

"I think I'll have a rum. One for you?" Killian asked his brother but didn't wait for his response as he stood and made his way to the bar where Emma Swan stood wrapped in sinful red fabric.

The dress had been Ruby's idea (it came from her closet as well). It hugged her curves in all the right places up top and flared at the waist, falling to the middle of her thigh. Her hair was down, falling in golden curling cascades over her shoulders and her feet were in a set of killer black stilettos. The dewy red of her lips caught the light with every movement of speech and smile she made and it drew Killian to her like a moth to a flame.

"Swan. Fancy seeing you here this evening," he drawled, accent thickened by the alcohol. She gave him a cool, appraising look before turning her attention back to where the bartender was mixing her and her groups drinks.

"Well, it's been a day. And you know how Mary Margaret and Ruby can be. Was that Liam I saw you with?" she asked, nodding towards the booth he'd come from.

"Aye," he replied, grinning lazily, not taking his eyes from her. "He's moved back to the States. Retirement and such."

"He doesn't look too happy you're over here." Emma cocked an eyebrow.

"He'll be fine," Killian dismissed. The bartender returned with her drinks and she paid the short brunette and gathered the glasses in her hands.

"Hmm, well let's not poke the bear, eh? See you later, Jones." And then she was gone with a soft smile and a swish of blonde hair.

"See you later, love." He grinned to himself and turned back to the bartender to order a couple more drinks.

Emma felt like all eyes in the bar were on her from the moment she walked through the door, but after that interaction with Killian, she felt none more acutely on her than those of the Brothers Jones. Both gazes burned into her, but for completely different reasons. Killian's felt like _want_ and _lust_ and an underlying sorrow, and Liam's... well Liam's would have set her on fire for real if he was so capable. She could feel the rage and hatred for her almost palpable from across the room. Breathless, she set the drinks on the table where Ruby and Mary Margaret sat.

"Alright, rum and coke for me, Cosmo for Rubes, and a Shirley Temple for M-n-M. Are you sure you don't want even a beer or anything Mags?" Emma asked and her friend shook her head, taking an enthusiastic sip of her soda.

"I'm fine. Driving. You know, can't be the future sheriff's wife if I'm drinking and driving!" She shrugged and looked everywhere but at Emma and Ruby. Emma narrowed her eyes. She wasn't being entirely honest. Emma had always had a eerily accurate talent for sussing out lies. Her eyes widened in suspicion.

"Wait a minute..." she said and Mary Margaret's eyes snapped back to hers. "Are you...?" she trailed off and Mary Margaret flushed scarlet.

"Shh!" She looked around as if someone was eavesdropping. "It's very early. We've only had the one appointment but, sometime in January, you'll be aunts!" She looked about ready to cry despite the mile wide smile spread over her dimpled cheeks.

Emma couldn't contain her own smile as she wrapped up her sister-in-law in a tight hug, which she happily returned. She felt Ruby's arms wrap around them both and they all broke out into tearful giggles.

"Oh man." Ruby wiped her eyes as the women broke apart. "I'm gonna need to do some damage control on this mascara. Be right back."

"I'll go with you, I gotta pee," Emma cut in, standing. "M-n-M?"

Mary Margaret waved them off, taking another sip of her soda. "Go, go. I'll watch our table."

Emma and Ruby went towards the back corner of the bar where the bathrooms were located and went about their business. Ruby was still reapplying and wiping streaks off her face when Emma finished. She made her way back into the low lit hallway and almost ran right into the broad chest of Liam Jones.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, her eyes settling on his large form. "Liam. How are you?"

Liam chuckled and shook his head.

"In all honesty, I'd be a hell of a lot better knowing you'll be leaving my brother be, _Emma_." He ground out her name like it left a bad taste in his mouth and Emma blinked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?" she asked, so taken aback by his declaration that she was lost for other words.

"You heard me. I don't know what game you're playing here, stringing Killian along since your return, but it ends here. He's been through enough because of you." Liam's eyes glittered in the dark and Emma felt her temper rising.

"Listen, _Liam_ ," she squared her shoulders and adopted the same tone he'd used earlier, "Killian is a big boy and I'm not stringing him anywhere. We're just friends. And no one knows how much I cost him like I do."

"I beg to differ, lass. You weren't the one holding his good hand as he cried out for _you_ in his sleep while he lay in hospital fighting for his life. You didn't drag him out of a cabin after he went missing for three weeks trying to drown himself at the bottom of every rum bottle he could find because he couldn't get over _you_. You weren't the one-"

"That's enough, Liam."

Both Liam and Emma turned to face the bathroom where Ruby had emerged, teeth bared like a snarling wolf.

"Rubes, it's fine, I-"

"The hell it is fine! Listen, none of us know what really went down with you and Killian," she said firmly to Emma, then darted her eyes to the tall man in front of them. "And it's _no one's_ business but yours and Killian's. Leave her be, Jones. Go back to your night."

Before they could make to leave, Killian rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks at the grouping before him.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" He swayed a bit, the alcohol obviously having left its mark.

"Your brother is an asshole," Ruby hissed, linking her arm with Emma's and making to pull her out of the hallway and back to their table, but Killian grasped Emma's other arm, effectively stopping her.

"Love? What's happened?" he slurred, blinking at her with unfocused eyes, before turning them to settle on his brother. "What did you do?" he demanded angrily.

"I was honest." Liam shrugged as if the words he had launched at Emma only moments ago hadn't cut her to the quick.

Emma wrenched her arm from both grips, and moved away from the three bodies crowding the small space.

"I get it, Liam. I'm a horrible person for what I did and how I left. You will _never_ know how much I regret what happened and how I left things. There's a lot of things I would have done differently. But you know what? I've had a _really_ shitty day and I don't need anymore bull piled on top. Have a good night." She was curt and Liam's jaw clenched tighter with every word she said. As she moved to leave, Killian moved faster than he should have been capable of in his state and blocked her path.

"Swan, don't go. Please, love." Killian's voice was begging and it flashed her right back to the day she walked out on him in the kitchen of his small home. She could feel her heart splinter at the memory.

"Hey, man, if she wants to leave, let her leave." A new voice came from the entryway to the bathroom area. The group turned almost in unison towards a tall, skinny man with shaggy brown hair now watching them.

"I don't think this is any of your business, _mate_ ," Killian growled at him. Emma saw her chance to escape and slipped past the man and began to walk away back to the table where Mary Margaret was waiting.

"Sheesh, I was about to come looking for you," she began but saw the look of near anguish on Emma's face and she bristled. "What's happened?"

Emma shook her head and laughed, an almost maniacal sound. Mary Margaret looked back for Ruby and she saw her leave the area with Killian and Liam following behind, locked in their own conversation. She stood, full mother bear mode activated, but Ruby waved her hand letting her know it was handled.

"I told Liam to leave you alone, Emma, and I think he gets the message, especially since Killian looked like he wanted to rip everyone in that hallway apart except me and you." Ruby sat down, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a flourish. Emma nodded.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Mary Margaret looked incensed and physically huffed in her seat.

Ruby began to recount the tale and Emma stared off into the distance. She watched as Liam and Killian gathered their coats and made towards the exit. She locked eyes across the room with Killian and he looked hurt and betrayed beyond measure. Still, he gave her a nod of acknowledgement, which she returned.

"What a- a bastard!" Mary Margaret exclaimed and her hand flew up to her mouth as if she could stuff the curse word back in. Emma looked at her sister-in-law in shock and she couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her throat.

"I thought the same," a voice said, approaching the table. It was the same man from before. His eyes settled on Emma and he gave her a soft, charming smile. "Are you alright, miss?"

"She's fine," Ruby cut in.

"Rubes," Emma said, voice laced with warning, but Ruby didn't take her eyes from the man, gaze narrowing. "I'm okay, thanks," she said, turning her attention back to the man.

"I'm glad. I'm Walsh, by the way." He offered his hand.

"Emma," she replied, shaking it.

"Well, ladies, next round's on me," he rapped his knuckles on the table and gave Emma an over-large grin. "Enjoy the rest of your evening. I hope I'll be seeing you around, Emma."

"Well, she's a deputy so probably," Ruby said with a snort, clearly looking to be rid of his company. Emma gave him a polite smile and poked Ruby's leg under the table. She grumbled under her breath and took a long drink of the pink liquid before her.

"We'll see each other around, I'm sure. Have a good night, Walsh," she replied, ignoring Ruby, and he gave her a slight nod and a smile as he left towards the bar. She wasn't looking for male company tonight either. Not when the only one she'd truly wanted just left with his angry brother who hated her because she'd broken him.

Killian and Liam made their way through the streets in tense silence. The exchange at the bar left them both much more upset and sober than either of them would have liked for their first night seeing one another in over a year and a half. Killian still wasn't sure _exactly_ what happened back there, but he knew that it had upset Emma and that upset him. They had talked it out, he had forgiven her, but she hadn't forgiven herself. Liam's tirade had only opened her wounds and poured salt in them. She didn't deserve that. She was hard enough on herself. He was still stewing on it when they approached his building. Killian fished his keys out of his pocket and held them out to Liam. He wasn't ready to go up just yet. Liam sighed at him, leaving the keys dangling from Killian's bad hand between them.

"Killian, I don't want to fight with you. I'm just looking out for you," he said, taking a step forward. Killian thrust the keys at him more insistently.

"Yes, well, I admit an argument with you was not how I envisioned our first evening reunited. Nevertheless, we do not agree, clearly, on what is truly _best_ for me, and I want to go check on things at the Harp anyhow. So. Head on up, I'll return shortly." Killian jangled the keys again.

Liam stared at him a moment longer. His brow furrowed and he looked like he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it and quietly accepted the keys.

They nodded to one another and Killian made his way towards the main drag alone.

As luck would have it, he approached the Golden Harp just in time to see Milah locking the large wooden front door, the bar now closed. She turned, her coffee colored curls reflecting the moonlight, her pale features illuminated by it as well. She was beautiful, and just what Killian had truly came here for. She startled as she saw Killian approaching, nearly dropping the keys and pressing the large ruby necklace she wore into her cleavage with a splayed hand.

"Killian," she said with a breathless laugh.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to give you a fright." He moved towards her and glanced around, looking to see if anyone was watching before brushing his right hand down her arm. It was 3:00 in the morning and they were all alone. She eyed him quizzically before placing her warm palm on his waist.

"What's the matter, darling?" she asked, eyes shining with concern and his heart clenched at the endearment. "Weren't you with Liam?"

"Oh, aye. We seem to have had a disagreement already over my ability to function as an adult man and make my own decisions," he muttered, still frustrated by the whole situation. Milah tsked and drew her brows together.

"Killian, he just wants what's best for you," she murmured and he tensed. She seemed to notice and moved closer to him, looping the arm already touching him around his waist and placing the other on his chest. He likewise pulled her closer with his bad arm. "What I mean to say is, he's been taking care of you for so long I'm not sure he knows how to be any different." Killian deflated at that. He couldn't be mad at his brother for protecting him. It was in his nature. It was the same reason he referred to him as his 'little' brother. He'd been taking care of him since he was twelve. Even before. It was part of who he was. They stood in silence, locked in a loose embrace for some time. Milah must have recognized they were still in public, late hour that it was regardless, and stepped away from him. He let her, but it stung.

"Would you walk with me to check on my boat? Or do you have to get home?" he asked, trying not to get his hopes up. He just wanted a little more time. To his surprise and delight, she nodded with a smile.

"Lead the way," she said and so he did.

He didn't mean to invite her on board. Didn't mean to kiss her senseless and pull her into the captain's cabin. But when they fell asleep in each other's arms after he'd thoroughly ravished her, he felt okay. If only for a moment.


End file.
